


The Christmas Series

by Morgana_avalon



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 09:56:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18386117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana_avalon/pseuds/Morgana_avalon
Summary: A street kid in New Orleans celebrates his first Christmas.





	1. Experiencing Christmas

Experiencing Christmas

 

Merde, it's too damn cold! I don't remember New Orleans being covered in snow before, but this year the weather gods went mad! Thankfully I found some shelter at the entrance of this grand house. I tried the shelters, but they don't want Le Diable Blanc around for the Christmas days, I would ruin the Christmas spirit! Figure that! If they were truly Christians, they would have taken me in and have taken care of me too! But no, Le Diable Blanc isn't welcome anywhere!

 

The rags I'm wearing don't do much to fight off the bitter cold. Ever since it started snowing, people began to stay inside their warm and cozy houses, making it nearly impossible for me to pick their pockets. "Merde, why de snow?" It's been days since I've eaten and I feel weak.

 

Hiding deeper beneath the newspapers I try to hold on to the little warmth I managed to build. Old newspapers and pieces of cardboard are my only defences against the cold. Like last night, I wonder if I will make it through the night. I'm shivering and my hands and feet have gone numb, but the alternative is worse. I know I can get warm, can get inside their houses if I use my charm, but the risk is too big. What if the charm hits a perverted man who's only interested in dragging me off to fuck me?

 

I learned that lesson during my early days on the streets. I have no idea how I ended up on the streets of New Orleans, but I quickly learned to be very careful and to be wary of men who offered to take me home for a bath and a hot meal. They always expected something from me in return. I made the mistake of going home with them the first few times, but after fighting them off I decided to run in the opposite direction when they came on to me.

 

The shivers become tremors, which rock my body. It's too cold, too dark and I'm alone. Why hold on? It would be easy to let go now, to simply drift asleep and let the cold take me. Why am I still holding on to life? A life that consists only of misery and pain? I escaped the Antiquary's clutches years ago and I'm not going back, not even when it means having a warm place to sleep and enough food. No, maybe I should stop fighting and give up. This life isn't worth living.

 

A gust of fierce wind drags away my newspaper. I should go after it, but the cold has frozen my body and I can't move. I can't go after it, even if I wanted to. I hope the bon Dieu will take pity on me and spare my soul eternal torment in hell, but knowing my bad luck it will burn forever.

 

"Au revoir..." The words tumble from my frozen lips and it's my last goodbye to this cruel world that never wanted me. I close my eyes and my head slumps forward. I'm ready to die.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Mon Dieu! Henri!"

 

The words are unwelcome intruders, which force my eyes open again. My eyelashes are partly frozen to my skin, but I don't feel any pain when they separate. Gathering my last strength I look up at the shadow that's hovering above me.

 

"Mon Dieu! It's a chile!"

 

My eyes focus and identify the form. It's a man, dressed in a luxurious, velvet suit. Long, dark hair dances on his shoulders and his eyes radiate a wondrous worry. "Sorry, m'sieur..." I'm amazed I'm still capable of speech and start to haul myself back on to my feet. "I'll leave now." They usually get mad when finding me asleep on their doorstep. The rich people don't want any beggars sleeping near their houses.

 

"Chile..."

 

I stumble over my own two feet, which are frozen and numb. I start to fall and close my eyes, hoping I will pass out before I hit the pavement. The man will probably call the police, who will push me inside a squad car and drive me to a more deserted part of town and kick me out there. At least that way I get to be inside a warm car for a short while.

 

Falling, I try to prepare myself mentally for the pain, but suddenly strong arms wrap themselves around me, holding me upright and keeping me from crashing into the concrete. Staring at the stranger, I wonder why the hell he's touching me. These rich people don't like to touch scum like me and wouldn't have broken my fall. I try shrugging my shoulders, but my body refuses to co-operate.

 

"Poor chile. Jean-Luc will take care of you."

 

Take care of me? What's he talking about? No one takes care of Le Diable Blanc... Oh no, mon Dieu! I've got to get away from him before he can hurt me! I'm in no shape to fight off the perverted bastard! I try to kick him, move away from him, but my body has given up and is frozen. The man easily lifts me in his arms and carries me inside.

 

Mon Dieu... it's a beautiful house. I've never seen such splendour and luxury. Heavy curtains are draped in front of the windows and there's even a real Christmas tree in the salon where he lays me down on one of the soft couches. Bien, maybe I'll willingly pay the price for being warm. Staring at the Christmas tree, I smile at the bright lights and golden garlands. I've never seen such a richly decorated Christmas tree and I wish I could get closer to it to touch it. "C'est beau..."

 

"De tree?"

 

The stranger looks worried, but I dismiss that observation. He's probably worried I will defile his couch or run off before he had a piece of my ass.

 

"Henri? Merde, where is he?" The man looks about and seems displeased when no one answers. "Henri? Where are you?"

 

"Oui?" A young man enters the room and heads for the couch.

 

So this is Henri? I give up on the idea of fighting off my 'saviours'. I might be able to fight off one of them, but two? This situation has spun out of my control and there's nothing I can do so I close my eyes and listen to them.

 

"Fill up the bat'tub, Henri. We need to warm de petit's body. Raise de room temperature and get more blankets from de guest rooms."

 

"Oui." Henri obeys and leaves the salon.

 

I strain to remember the man's name. What name did he use outside? Jean-Luc? So this Jean-Luc is in charge and maybe Henri is his lover? Guess Jean-Luc likes his meat young. What if I never escape from his clutches? Will he hurt me badly?

 

"Stop strugglin', petit. I want to help you!"

 

Non! His hands are undoing the buttons of my shirt, trying to slip it off. I refuse to give in so easily! Although my body is still numb with cold I try to fight him off. My eyes flash open again when his hands move to unzip my jeans. "Non!"

 

Something in my eyes or screams stops him, because Jean-Luc's hands freeze. I've got to act now! This is my chance to get away from him! If only my body would co-operate, but I'm shivering fiercely and feel paralyzed.

 

"Don' be scared of me, petit. I won' hurt you." Jean-Luc tries to sound reassuringly, speaking slowly and gentle. "But you're frozen and a warm bat' will help raise your body temperature. I promise everyt'in' will be bien."

 

Mon Dieu help me, but I've got no idea why I want to believe him. I should know better than to trust a stranger, but I've got nothing to lose and when I'm warm I can still try to get away from him. I stop struggling, but follow every move he makes as he undresses me. His hands now smooth back my frozen locks and one icy stray breaks in two.

 

"Mon Dieu, chile. Even your hair is frozen!"

 

Jean-Luc's shocked expression reveals his deeper emotions and I wonder about him. He's one hell of an actor to make me believe he's actually worried. I'm completely naked now and shivers rack my body. Suddenly, Jean-Luc leans in closer and I prepare myself for the pain that will surely follow, but he gently lifts me in his arms and carries me out of the salon, up the stairs and into the bathroom, where Henri has filled the bathtub with hot water. The bathroom is filled with warm steam, which invades my lungs and makes me cough. I've had a cold for days now and the steam is loosening the congestion.

 

"Bien, let's see if dis helps."

 

Jean-Luc lowers me into the hot water and my eyes bulge, feeling its warmth invade my pores. I can't remember being this warm before! The water closes over my body and my eyes close, relishing the warm sensation. Unexpectedly, warm water cascades down my face and I peek at the two men. Merde, they do seem worried, but... it can't be.

 

"Henri, prepare de guest room closest to my room. The petit will be asleep wit'in minutes."

 

Oh non, I will stay awake! No way am I going to fall asleep with two strangers close! I don't trust them!

 

"Oui, père." Henri rushes out of the bathroom.

 

Père? Did Henri call Jean-Luc père? Are they father and son? Non, I don't buy it. One of the first times a man hit on me, he wanted me to call him poppa and maybe Jean-Luc is the same. The warmth is seeping into my bones, making me sleepy and shutting down my mind. I want to fall asleep and never wake up again, but I can't. I've got to stay awake!

 

Jean-Luc squeezes some shampoo into the palm of his hand and starts washing my hair. I don't want to relax, but I do, knowing I'll be clean in a few minutes. It's been ages since I washed my hair and I find myself leaning into the touch. Non, merde! I pull away from him and Jean-Luc lets me.

 

"Petit, I can' even see your hair color beneat' de dirt and blood in your hair. I'll be finished in minutes when you co-operate."

 

Knowing I'm too weak to fight him, I let him wash my hair. Then he grabs the soap and works up a lather, washing the rest of my body. My stomach convulses in fear when he cleans my buttocks and then moves onto my groin. Tears make their way down my face, fearing he'll hurt me, but Jean-Luc pulls back to collect some fluffy towels. He didn't try anything! I can't believe he didn't try anything!

 

"Can you stand on your own, chile?" Jean-Luc unfolds the towels.

 

I manage to push myself to my feet and although I'm wobbly I stand on my own. Jean-Luc wraps the warm and fluffy towels around my shivering body and dries my skin. After drying my hair as well, he buries me in a warm robe and then lifts me again. Why is he carrying me around?

 

Jean-Luc walks down the corridor and I try to memorize the way out, but my mind isn't lucid. I feel warm and comfortable, almost trance-like. Henri opens a door and Jean-Luc moves inside. Oh, there's a four poster bed with a million warm blankets on top of it. Jean-Luc puts me in its center and covers me with the warm blankets. Mon Dieu, is this heaven? The shivers grow worse and I move deeper beneath the blankets, curling up in a tight ball. I'm warm! I'm warm again!

"We should let de petit sleep for now," Jean-Luc says. "I'll wake him up in a few hours so he can eat wit' us. He looks starved."

 

"He's probably one of dose street kids dat roam de streets. Tante's been talkin' about donatin' money to de shelters."

 

Henri makes sure the blankets are tucked around me. Something funny and intensely frightening is happening; I'm beginning to trust them! My instincts warn against it, but I can't help it. Feeling warm and secure I allow myself to drift off into sleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Feeling comfortably warm, I wonder where I am. The last thing I remember is wanting to let go and stop fighting the cold. What happened after that? I crack one eye half open, and stare in wonder at my surroundings. Where am I? In a big four poster bed, tucked away beneath warm and soft blankets. Sitting up, my head reels, but I feel amazingly fine. My stomach growls and I wish it would shut up. I won't be eating for hours. First I've got to steal some money.

 

I consider leaving the bed, but I want to hold on to this warmth and rest my back against the head board, dragging the blankets with me. I need to remember what happened! In the distance I hear two voices and the memories return. Jean-Luc and Henri. The two men took me in, filled up their bathtub and then put me in this warm bed. Why? What do they expect in return?

 

That's it! I need to leave this house before they can state their demands, but where are my clothes? Well, I'm not so sure one can call them clothes, rags is more like it! I don't see them anywhere and grow scared. I'm only wearing a robe and I can't leave the house dressed like that! I need shoes and a warm coat to survive the cold! Panicking, I cling to the blankets for warmth and safety.

 

"Ah, you're awake," Jean-Luc says, appearing in the doorway.

 

I get a better look at him now. The suit is gone and he's wearing a heavy robe. His hair is tangled and it looks like he just woke up himself.

 

"Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes. You must be hungry, petit."

 

I nod my head, unsure what to do next. "Merci, m'sieur," I choke out in the end.

 

"Can' let you freeze to deat' like dat."

 

Jean-Luc gives me a long stare and I crumble beneath his intense glance. Huddled beneath the blankets, I'm too afraid to hope he means well. He'll state his price; take what he figures I owe him. It's foolish to expect otherwise.

 

"Wash up and den join us in de kitchen," Jean-Luc says softly. "Den we'll find you some clot'es."

 

"Merci." I need to get out of here! I can't stay! Jean-Luc leaves and I crawl out of the bed. My legs give out beneath me and I collapse onto the floor. The cold, the malnourishment and pure exhaustion finally got to me.

 

"Here, let me help."

 

When did Jean-Luc come back? His hands slip beneath my neck and knees and he lifts me in his arms.

 

"You need to eat, chile."

 

That's true. I haven't eaten in days. As he carries me downstairs I try to take in my surroundings. Precious paintings and sculptures decorate his home and I wonder why a rich man like he is taking care of a street rat like me. The smell of food makes my nose itch and I stare at the bacon and eggs, waffles, fruit and croissants that fill the kitchen table. Jean-Luc puts me down in one of the chairs and I remain motionless, too intimidated to reach for the food. It's their food, not mine.

 

"Here, hot chocolate milk." Henri puts the drink on the kitchen table.

 

For me? Is that hot coco for me? Impossible! I can only stare as the two men fill their plates with food and start eating. Slowly, I curl my fingers around the hot mug and relish its warmth. I'm scared to let go, afraid they will take the hot drink away from me. As I finally sip, shivers of contentment travel through my body.

 

"Aren't you hungry, chile?" Henri asks, pointing at the plate in front of me. "Here, let me." He stuffs the plate with croissants, waffles and fruit and then pushes it across the table.

 

"For me?" My gaze travels from one man to the other. I can't believe they'll let me share their meal!

 

"Oui, for you, petit," Jean-Luc confirms, while sipping his coffee. "What's your name?"

 

"Remy..." I picked the name myself from a book I once read. The Antiquary never told me if I had a name, only calling me boy, and I made one up myself once I hit the streets.

 

"Remy... what were you doing outside in de cold?" Jean-Luc asks in a concerned tone.

 

How dumb are they? "Tryin' to survive."

 

"We should contact your parents so dey can come and get you." Henri exchanges a worried look with Jean-Luc.

 

"Don' have parents, m'sieur. Am alone." I curl my fingers around one croissant, stare at it and then push it into my mouth. Oh, it's delicious! Jean-Luc and Henri laugh, but I can tell it's a sad smile. "Merci for de warm bed and de food, mais I promise I'll be gone once I get my clot'es back. Will move away from your home, won' die on your doorstep." The laughter dies and I look up at them, seeing clenched jaws and undecipherable expressions.

 

"Père, de petit doesn' have parents..."

 

Jean-Luc nods his head. "We've plenty of room."

 

What are they talking about? Helplessly, I squirm on my chair, wondering what's going on in their heads.

 

"Petit, Remy, would you like to stay wit' us?" Jean-Luc's firm tone tells me he's serious.

 

"I don' know, m'sieur. I ain' dat kind of boy... don' sell my body for food..." Now they'll kick me out, but that's okay. I'm warm and my belly's full. I can survive for another few days.

 

Jean-Luc's expression grows furious and I shrink in the chair, trying to make myself as small as possible. "Please don' beat me..." I raise my arms and hold them in front of my face, trying to protect me. I've no idea how they will react to me saying no.

 

Jean-Luc's body trembles. "Remy, Henri and I aren' like dat! Merde! I would never force myself on a chile!" He's rambling, cursing in Cajun and gets to his feet to pace the room.

 

Suddenly, Henri's hand covers mine and I flinch beneath the touch.

 

"Petit, you were hurt in de past, non?"

 

"Oui," I mumble, puzzled, and meet Henri's eyes. "Dere's always a price."

 

"Not at de LeBeau household," Henri says determinedly and looks at his father.

 

"Remy, you don' have to be scared," Jean-Luc whispers, while sitting on his heels in front of me. "It's Christmas and de bon Dieu brought you to my doorstep for a reason. Stay and let me take care of you."

 

"Why?" He's too close and I move about on my chair. Jean-Luc seems to understand and gets to his feet. He takes his former seat again and stares at me.

 

"I'm sorry, Remy..."

 

His remark puzzles me, but I dismiss it. Why would he feel sorry? He doesn't even know me! "Merci, m'sieur, mais I don' t'ink I should stay."

 

Jean-Luc seems lost in thought. "Let me show you somet'in' and den I'll ask you again." He extends his hand and rises from the chair. "Take my hand, petit."

 

I don't know why I place my hand in his, but I do and follow him back to the salon where the Christmas tree is sitting majestically in the center of the room. Jean-Luc guides me closer to it and then sits cross legged in front of it. I follow his example and sit down as well.

 

"I'm offerin' you a home, Remy."

 

Are Jean-Luc's eyes swimming? Non, can't be. I cock my head to have a closer look at his eyes. There are tears swimming in them! Looking at the Christmas tree I wonder what it means, having a home, having a place to stay. "What's de price?"

 

"No price..." Jean-Luc licks his lips.

 

"Can' believe you, m'sieur. Dere's always a price."

 

Jean-Luc's growing frustrated. "Den I want you to be de best son a man can have."

 

I can't argue with him. I want this too badly. I might regret making this decision later, but right now I want to stay here, with Jean-Luc and Henri. The Christmas lights are twinkling, as if they are welcoming me home. "I'd love to stay, m'sieur."

 

Jean-Luc raises his arms and I surprise myself by flinging myself at him, letting them close around me, holding me close. "Noël joyeux," I whisper, taken aback because I feel so safe and sheltered in his arms. I usually have a hard time letting men touch me, but Jean-Luc is different. I trust him.

 

"Dis is your home, petit," Henri says, standing near the doorway. "I always wanted a petit frère."

 

Having a family all of a sudden feels surreal and all I can do is hold on to Jean-Luc LeBeau. Dis is the first Christmas present I ever got and it's also the best. "Merci, m'sieur..." Privately, I vow to never disappoint this man.

 

The end.

December 2001


	2. New Year's Eve at the LeBeau residence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Year's Eve at the LeBeau residence.

New Year's Eve at the LeBeau residence

 

Non, I'm not leaving my warm bed! It's still snowing outside and the wind has grown in strength these last few hours. There's absolutely no reason to trade this warm bed for the cold. Hiding deeper beneath the blankets I giggle giddily. I've never been this happy before and I still expect my luck to end suddenly. I'm going to savour every second of this amazing dream!

 

It's been seven days since Jean-Luc and Henri LeBeau took me in and so much has happened since then that I don't know where to start. My belly's full and I've got a closet filled with warm clothes. The best thing however, is this big four poster bed with all its blankets. I can hide beneath them and they keep me warm. This place is heaven come true! I never thought heaven would let Le Diable Blanc inside its gates!

 

"Remy! Get up and get dressed! Breakfast's 'most ready. Don' let tante wait!"

 

I don't know why I'm giggling, but I roll out of bed and get dressed within seconds. It's a joy to wear these warm clothes. Strolling into the corridor, I can't help but smile, knowing Jean-Luc and tante are already waiting for me in the kitchen. I don't understand why they always wait for my lazy ass to join them, as I'm always the last one at the kitchen table.

 

Biting down a cough, I hope I won't have another coughing fit this morning. Tante has the most horrific tasting medicine to cure my cough and I refuse to drink more of it. I stop in my tracks in the doorway, watching the domestic scene. I've never been with people who are as much at ease as they are. "Mornin'," I whisper, officially announcing my arrival. They look up, smile and seek out my gaze. I immediately lower my eyes; it's an old engrained reflex that I can't seem to shake.

 

"Petit, come here." Jean-Luc gestures towards the chair next to him. "Did you sleep bien? Did you have any nightmares? I don' t'ink I heard you scream last night."

 

"No nightmares," I admit and move shyly toward him, sitting down next to Jean-Luc.

 

"Petit, you can look at me. I told you 'fore not to be afraid. Remy?"

 

His pleading tone gets to me and I hesitantly lock eyes with him. "I don' understand, m'sieur. Why do you want to look at Le Diable Blanc's eyes? No one else does." I've been called names since I hit the streets; mutant trash, devil spawn, demon, mutant whore... I've heard them all. My eyes always give me away. I tried wearing sun glasses for some time, but they came off during a fight and the verbal abuse started all over again. So I stayed away from people and learned to make myself invisible when someone was close.

 

"You're eyes are unique, petit. Don' hide dem from me."

 

"Non, m'sieur, you're wrong." A week ago I wouldn't have dared to object, but I've learned to read the man. Jean-Luc LeBeau isn't one of those perverts who are only looking for a quick fuck. During this last week he somehow managed to convince me that he honestly wants to take care of me, yet I don't know why he wants to protect me. Why pick a mutant street rat?

 

Jean-Luc's hand unexpectedly touches my chin and I flinch, but don't pull away from the touch. I've seen... and felt... Jean-Luc's hurt when I pulled away those first times he touched me. I don't want to pry at his feelings, but my charm is making it hard to look the other way. Somehow I feel his intentions, his emotions and that never happened before. I feel his hurt, his sorrow, his happiness and it confuses the hell out of me.

 

Tante Mattie places a filled plate in front of me, admonishing me to eat everything, but I can only stare into Jean-Luc's eyes. Why do I feel connected to him? I never felt like I belonged with someone, but I feel like I belong here in this household, with tante, Jean-Luc and Henri and I don't understand it. Tears sneak into my eyes and I want to wipe them away before they can surface, but Jean-Luc stops me.

 

"Don', Remy. Sometimes a man needs to cry, to let go of de past and de demons."

 

"De... mons?" I'm stuttering and hate myself for showing this weakness. "I'm Le Diable Blanc!" Jean-Luc must understand! He'll throw me out onto the streets once he understands, but I can't abuse his generosity like this!

 

"You're no demon, petit. You're a mutant, born with different eyes, dat's all. You're no demon."

 

Suddenly Jean-Luc's arms are around me and I hear tante leave the kitchen to give us a moment alone. His strong arms rock me; pull me off my chair and onto his lap. I struggled the first time he held me, but I can accept his closeness now, knowing he won't hurt me like the others. My arms sneak up behind his broad back and I cling to him for the emotional support I never got before. "Mais M'sieur... jus' look at my eyes!" 

 

"Dey have de color of de risin' sun, petit. Dere's strengt' in dem. Dey are beau, Remy. You're not Le Diable Blanc; don' believe dat. People fear what dey don' understand and dey fear your powers."

 

I want to believe him; I really do, but can't. I've been called that name too many times to do away with it now. "I'm sorry, m'sieur." My hair falls in front of my face, hiding the solitary tear that makes its way down my cheek.

 

"Remy..."

 

He wants me to call him poppa, or père, but I can't do that. He has to gain my complete trust first; he has to earn that title. "Sorry, m'sieur."

 

Jean-Luc sighs. "Eat your breakfast, mon fils and den join me in de salon."

 

The salon? I love that room; love the Christmas tree inside it! Last night I stared at all the lights and dozed off, dreaming pleasantly for a change. I wish that tree could always stay there! "Oui, m'sieur." Jean-Luc releases me and I climb back onto my chair. While eating breakfast I wonder why he wants me to join him. "Did I do somet'in' wrong, m'sieur?" 

 

"Non, Remy, you didn' do anyt'in' wrong." Jean-Luc rises from his chair. "And bring your coat, petit."

 

"My coat?" Curiosity makes me look up and his smile takes me aback.

 

"Oui, your coat," Jean-Luc repeats patiently.

 

As he moves toward the doorway I wonder what kind of trouble I'm in. Jean-Luc might have said that I didn't do anything wrong, but... Oh, Mon Dieu! He's going to throw me out! My fork drops from my fingers and I start to shake. Jean-Luc finally realized that he took in a street rat and he now wants me to leave. It hurts. I almost managed to convince myself that I could stay here.

 

My appetite's gone and I push the still half-full plate away from me. I better get my shoes and coat and leave on my own before he can throw me out, but wait! Those shoes and the coat aren't mine! They're Jean-Luc's. Taking them means I'm stealing. Oui, I stole before, but Jean-Luc has been good to me and I don't want to steal from him!

 

I slip from my chair and after making sure tante isn't near, I sneak back to my temporary room. I know that my old clothes are gone. Jean-Luc told me tante destroyed them so I can't change back into them and I don't want to roam the streets naked so I'll steal the clothes I'm wearing now. Tormented, I stare at the shoes. Should I take them? It's still snowing and I won't last long without them. "I'll pay you back, m'sieur," I promise, having no idea how I can ever repay him!

 

What about the coat? It'll keep me warm, but the other kids will grow envious and take it away from me. I decide to leave it and grab a warm sweater instead. Fighting back hot tears, I make my way to the front door and gently close it behind me. The cold assaults me and I start coughing again. Although my lungs have begun to improve, they're deteriorating again because of the cold. 

 

"Where do I go now?" Looking about, I try to remember my hide outs, but they are too far away. I won't last long coughing like that this! But I don't have a choice and I walk slowly away from Jean-Luc's home. "Merci, m'sieur, mais you should have let me die on your doorstep!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Hours later, my feet refuse to co-operate any longer and I crumble against a wall, sliding down until my butt hits the freezing pavement. It's a fairly busy street as people are still shopping, preparing for New Year's Eve. I manage to raise my frozen right hand, hoping they will feel generous tonight. "Please, m'dam, ms'ieur, mebbe you have some change to spare?" I begged before and know they won't tolerate me for long. Soon the cops will show up. If I didn't feel this frozen I would pick their pockets, but frozen fingers make that too risky. I have to beg instead.

 

The cold seeps into my clothes, invades my skin and permeates my bones. I've got to get moving again or I'll freeze to death! Panic surges through me, realizing I'm unable to move. I don't even have the strength to release another cough that would aid my troubled breathing and free my tormented lungs. So is this the end? Jean-Luc only postponed the inevitable for a few days!

 

My frozen eyelids slip shut and the tears become crystals in my eyes. I don't put up a fight, knowing I can't escape my fate. Maybe I will find some peace in death!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Ai, Remy! Why did you run 'way? Petit, look at me, talk to me! Tante, we need to take him home at once. He's barely breathin' and his lips are blue. Tante, Henri, we can' waste any time. We've got to move now!"

 

Huh? I know that voice. What's Jean-Luc doing here? Or is this Death's way to make things easier on me? Is this one last sweet dream? Oui, Jean-Luc came for me in my dreams and he'll keep me warm. Merci, m'sieur, for making these last seconds bearable. Losing consciousness I give in to oblivion.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The first thing I become aware of is a warm cocoon around me. My fingers explore the fabric and I recognize the fragrance of the potpourri tante places in every room. I'm back at the LeBeau's mansion! My eyes open slowly and I try to focus on my surroundings. Oui, this is the room Jean-Luc assigned to me and this is the four poster bed I've grown fond of. Does this mean he followed me?

 

"Père? De petit's 'wake."

 

Henri... Looking to my right, I find him sitting in a comfortable chair next to my bed. How long has he been sitting there? "I'm sorry..."

 

"Don' be sorry, petit." Henri leans in closer. "Jus' stop runnin' 'way. You scared us, Remy."

 

I scared them? What is he talking about? "T'ought you wanted me gone," I whisper, confused.

 

"I wanted to take you for a short walk, Remy," Jean-Luc explains as he enters the room. "I needed to pick up some t'ings for tonight and I hoped you'd like to join me for dat shoppin' trip. And dere's your belated Christmas present I was supposed to pick up." Jean-Luc reaches the bed and sits down on its side. "Remy, I want you here. Henri and tante want you here. Why run 'way?"

 

My face's flushed and feels hot. "T'ought you didn' want me no more."

 

"Cause I told you to get your coat?" A look of utter disbelief appears on Jean-Luc's face. "Remy, tell me what I need to do to convince you dat I want you here."

 

"Don' know, m'sieur." I lower my eyes and my fingers fumble the blanket. Henri and Jean-Luc are looking at me and I wish the floor would open and swallow me. I can't bear the look in their eyes. What are they thinking? What are they feeling? I can find out, providing I use my charm to spy on them, but I don't want to invade their privacy.

 

"Mon fils," Jean-Luc says softly. "You can' run away from the LeBeau's. Henri and I will find you no matter where you go. You belong here. You're family, mon fils. I know dat may be hard to accept, mais it's de trut'."

 

I hate crying, but I can't stop myself and big tears flow down my face. I shouldn't be crying! I'm not a baby!

 

"Remy, mon fils, make me a very happy man and promise to stay. Don' ever run 'way 'gain?" Jean-Luc's hand opens, palm upwards, extending it in love and friendship.

 

I tentatively place my hand in his and am struck by the fact how tiny my hand seems against his. "I promise, m'sieur."

 

Jean-Luc sighs relieved. "Bien, and mebbe you'll learn to call me poppa too."

 

Hesitantly, I meet his eyes and smile. "I can stay?"

 

"Oui, petit. Dis is your home." Jean-Luc smiles. "Why don' you rest for now? Hopefully you'll feel better tonight so you can join us to greet de new year."

 

At a loss, I stare into his eyes. They really want me to stay! My eyes close due to exhaustion and I give in to my fatigue, dozing off. The last thing I hear are Jean-Luc's whispered words.

 

"Sleep tight, petit."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Are you warm 'nough, Remy?" Tante smiles, cocks her head and hums contently.

 

"Oui, tante, I'm bien." It's the truth. I'm tucked safely between Henri and Jean-Luc and their body heat keeps me warm. We're sitting on a bench on the balcony, watching the fireworks as the citizens of New Orleans try to drive away the evil spirits by launching the most beautiful fireworks I've seen. It's even more special now that I have a warm bed to sleep in and people close who care about me. 

 

Jean-Luc checks if the blankets are still tightly tucked around me and I lean against Henri for support. I still feel weak from the stunt I pulled, but at least now I know they really want me. "C'est beau," I whisper, breathlessly, as another magnificent explosion lights up the sky. Jean-Luc's hand strokes my hair and I relax, feeling the older man's contentment at having me close.

 

"We should go 'side," Jean-Luc says softly. "You still need to unpack your belated Christmas present."

 

That's another thing I don't understand. Why is Jean-Luc so intent on giving me a Christmas present? He gave me so much already! Clothes, food, a home! That's all I want!

 

We stay on the bench for a few more minutes until the fireworks grow less. Jean-Luc moves slowly, giving me a chance to monitor his movements and I don't flinch when his hands slip beneath my knees and back, lifting me in his arms. He carries me inside and my eyes tear up again, seeing the Christmas tree and the large gift wrapped box beneath it. "You don' have to buy me presents, m'sieur!"

 

"I want to give dis to you, petit." Jean-Luc walks over to the Christmas tree.

 

He puts me down on the floor, checks the blankets again and only then allows me to lean in closer to look at the box, which is... moving? "M'sieur?"

 

"Life at de LeBeau household can be lonely," Jean-Luc whispers. "You'll need a companion."

 

I free my hands from the blankets and cautiously reach for the box. It moves again; is it safe to open it? Jean-Luc nods his head encouragingly and I open the box. Soft whimpers escape from inside the box and breathlessly I lean in closer.

 

A puppy with a warm fur and mischievous eyes stares back at me. A wet tongue travels across my hand and I carefully pick him up, bringing him close to my chest. The puppy's tongue now laps at my face, whimpering softly.

 

"M'sieur!" I stare at Jean-Luc in disbelief. I never had a pet before! The puppy squirms in my arms, rolls itself onto his back and I can't resist rubbing its tummy.

 

"He's yours, Remy. You'll feed him, walk him and make sure he's bien." Jean-Luc strokes the puppy's head as well.

 

Lost for words, I continue to rub his warm tummy until the puppy jumps back to his feet and that lethal tongue laps at my nose. "I can' believe..." I wrap my arms around the puppy and it struggles briefly, before giving in and letting itself be cuddled.

 

"He needs a name, Remy," Henri says, pleased that they picked the perfect gift.

 

Warm and wet puppy dog kisses cover my face and I giggle, trying to subdue the enthusiastic puppy. "A name?" The little rascal can't sit still and is now chasing its tail, making me laugh. Oh, it feels so good to laugh! I almost forgot how great it feels to be happy! It's a magical moment. "I know a name! Bisou!" This little pup enchanted me with his wild licks and kisses and he now snuggles up to me, quickly losing his energy and falling asleep. This bundle of energy will exhaust me!

 

"It's a longhaired Pyrenean Shepherd," Jean-Luc says, smiling at the puppy. "Dey grow extremely attached to deir owner, Remy."

 

"Oui, m'sieur." I understand. Jean-Luc's making sure that I won't run away again. And he's right! How can I ever leave this puppy behind? Cradling it close to me, I softly hum one of tante's melodies. "Merci, m'sieur."

 

Jean-Luc simply smiles, leans back in the chair and watches me cuddle the puppy. This is the best New Year's Eve I ever had!

 

The end.


	3. The ghost of Christmas present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twelve years have passed and Remy's stuck at Westchester during Christmas.

The ghost of Christmas present.

 

The diary Jean-Luc gave me twelve years ago is tattered now. The photographs inside lost their brilliance and I wish they would still hold the fascination they held years ago. But too much has happened over the years. The big four poster bed is the only tangible thing the past left me. Jean-Luc insisted I take it with me when I was banished from New Orleans. After I decided to settle down at Westchester he had it delivered to the mansion. I allow my hands to caress the familiar fabric; the blankets warmed me when I was a child.

 

It's lonely at the mansion right now. Only Hank and Bobby are still there. The others left to spend Christmas with their loved ones or to take a much deserved vacation. I'm relieved that Rogue left as well. Her presence was suffocating me. Over the years my charm grew much stronger. I know now that charm is the wrong term for it, I'm an empath, but I keep that knowledge to myself. No one needs to know; they don't trust me anyway.

 

Shivering, I pull up a blanket and wrap it around my body. It's snowing again and the white blanket outside reminds me too much of my ordeal in Antarctica. If I hadn't met Magneto's house ghost I would never have made it out alive. I do owe Rogue for helping me get rid of her. I hoped we would get back together again when she came after me, but our 'happiness' only lasted one week. That's how long it took us to go back to fighting again.

 

We called it quits two months ago and the loneliness has only grown worse. Scott's been trying to rebuild some measure of friendship, but he's only doing that because the team will benefit from it, not because he cares about me. Jean's okay too, but Rogue, Warren, Betsy and even Storm are avoiding me. I'm not sure about the professor; he's hard to read. Xavier is letting me stay for his own reasons; he needs me on the team.

 

Why did I come back? I'm stuck at the boathouse and can't move back to the mansion. Scott offered to help me move back to my old room, but I refused; I don't feel I have the right to live there. I wish Jean-Luc and tante were here to help me through this, but that's wishful thinking. I can't ever go back to New Orleans and they can't leave because the Guild needs them.

 

A photograph of Bisou falls onto the bed and I look at it fondly. I loved that dog with a passion and I took it hard when he died. He'd developed a tumor and we discovered the lump too late. The vet put him to sleep and I held him when he released his last breath. Jean-Luc offered to buy me a new puppy, but no dog could replace Bisou so I told him no. "Wish you were still here, Bisou."

 

It's going to be a lonely Christmas this year, which I'll be spending here at the boathouse. I doubt Hank and Bobby want me around. They are best friends and I would only be an inconvenience. Stuck here, there are two things I can do. Make the best of it and get a tree in here, cook Christmas dinner and call Jean-Luc later tonight or just sit here depressed and frustrated. The first option involves energy I don't have left so the second one wins.

 

I lie down, pull the blankets up to my chin and stare at the snowflakes dancing in front of my window. I shouldn't give into depression, but I'm too tired to fight it any longer. I've been feeling like this for months now, but managed to uphold a front that fooled them all.

 

Closing my eyes, I try to remember Bisou's warm fur, tante's humming and the spicy fragrance of Jean-Luc's cigars. Oui, I'll call poppa later. Maybe he's at home and we can talk for some minutes. I'd like that.

 

I'm still shivering, but it's no longer due to the cold. The blankets are keeping me warm. The shivers are caused by the immense loneliness that surrounds me. I never coped well with being alone. Closing my eyes, I will myself to fall asleep. It's an old trick Jean-Luc taught me and it still works. Drifting off into oblivion I try to hold on to memories of my family.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Come on, Remy! Open up! I know you're in there!"

 

Startled, I sit upright in bed. I recognize the voice and get to my feet. What's Bobby doing out here at this hour? It's dinner time and he should be at the mansion, enjoying the meal with Hank. "I'm on my way, Drake," I call out, uncertain he can hear me. I almost stumble over my own two feet as I hurry downstairs. Opening the front door I steel myself against the cold.

 

"What took you so long?" Bobby shakes his head, mildly amused, and steps into the corridor.

 

"I was 'sleep." Caught off guard, the truth slips out. I quickly close the door behind him and shiver at the cold he brings with him. Bobby moved on to the living room and I follow him, wrapping my arms around my waist, trying to ward off the cold. "Is somet'in' wrong?" The only reason I can think of for Bobby to come here is that the team needs me for a mission.

 

Bobby sits down on the couch and smiles saddened. "Hank unexpectedly announced he was going to spend Christmas with his family. Originally he didn't want to go and to continue his research instead, but they called him and asked him to spend the holidays with them. Now I'm alone at the mansion."

 

I shrug my shoulders, still wondering why he's here. "Why aren' you wit' your boyfriend?"

 

Bobby's eyes narrow suspiciously and his body tenses. "What do you know about my boyfriend?"

 

"You ain' good at keepin' secrets, Drake. I don' have Logan's sense of smell, but I distinctly detected de strange cologne on you when you got home a few weeks ago. You should also tell your lover not to leave any passion marks above de collar." Maybe I shouldn't have brought this up. Bobby is insecure about his new relationship and I don't want him to freak out because I know about them. "Ain' my business anyway." Turning my back toward Bobby I stare out of the window. It stopped snowing.

 

Bobby clears his throat. His tone is uncharacteristically quiet when he finally speaks. "Andy and I are no longer together."

 

"I'm sorry to hear dat." I'm truly sorry that his relationship didn't work out.

 

Bobby voice suddenly starts to tremble. "I realized I didn't really love him. He was second choice because I can't have the real thing."

 

Bowing my head, I rest my shoulder against the wall for support. "Den you did good, breakin' off de relationship, Bobby." I pause briefly to gather my thoughts and strengthen my shields; I don't want to involuntarily glance at Bobby's feelings. "Why are you here?"

 

"I still need to pick up some groceries for tonight's dinner. Wanna join me?"

 

Surprised, I look over my shoulder and search his face. He genuinely seems to want my company. "I ain' good company right now, Bobby." I don't know why but I hold my breath as he rises from the couch to join me in front of the window.

 

"You know you're always welcome at the mansion, don't you? You don't need to stay here."

 

"Dat's what Scott says, mais I know betta, Bobby." I avert my eyes and shiver, feeling his body heat. It feels good to have another person close, but it won't last. I can't allow it to last. "Go shoppin' alone, Drake."

 

"No, you're coming with me. I refuse to spend Christmas Eve alone and although I love Twinkies I want a real Christmas meal. Come on, Remy, it'll be fun!"

 

Don't give in, I admonish myself. Don't give in! But then his arm's around my waist and he's pulling me towards the door while picking up my coat at the same time. "Bobby, non..." But my resolve is weakening and I don't object when he drapes the coat over my shoulders.

 

"We can cook dinner here if you don't want to stay at the mansion and I'll even haul a tree in here. Come on, Cajun!"

 

How can I refuse him? I can't. It feels too good to have him close, to let his presence warm me and bring me back to life. I allow him to pull me outside and the shivers grow worse. I never did do cold well.

 

"We'll get the groceries first, buy a tree, more decorations and we'll put it up in your living room. You can help me cook dinner and maybe we'll find a great movie to watch. I think I've got Scrooged on video, we can pop that one in."

 

I let Bobby ramble and suddenly find myself in Scott's car. "Bobby? Do you have any money on you?" I haven't.

 

"I've got Scott's credit card." Bobby smiles smugly and keys the ignition.

 

Realizing there's no way out, I resign myself to this situation and watch the mansion grow smaller as Bobby drives to the closest mall.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Remy, you can't deny that it's the perfect tree!" Bobby proudly gazes at the tree he selected. "It's not too big, not too small, it's perfect!"

 

I gave up fighting him a long time ago. It was between having to taste chocolate and strawberry ice cream because he couldn't make up his mind which one to have for dessert tonight. "Oui, it's perfect." Bobby gives me a suspicious look, knowing I'm letting him have his way too easily.

 

"Okay, I'll go pay for it and you can haul it to the car." Bobby walks away and his smug smile turns into a pleased grin.

 

Sighing, I start my way back to the car, taking the tree with me. Involuntarily I'm reminded of Jean-Luc's Christmas tree. How I wish I could spend Christmas at home, but it's not going to happen.

 

Soft whimpers coming from my right attract my attention and I try to pinpoint the source of the miserable sounds. "Oh, you poor t'ing." It's a dog, old and famished. He's hiding behind the trash cans and I drop the tree onto the concrete to check on the dog. "You're hungry, non?" Sad eyes stare back at me and they hold a sorrow so damned familiar to me that I stroke his head. Warmth radiates from the dog's mind and it takes me aback, knowing I should lock out his feelings, but I can't.

 

"Remy? What are you doing?" Bobby's back and walks up behind me. He sits on his heels and tries to get a better look at the poor creature. "What did you find?"

 

"He's hungry..." Tears are building in my eyes, but I can't allow them to surface and I fight them back. We bought steak for tonight's dinner... would Bobby mind if I fed it to the poor thing? What I really want is to take him to the boathouse and make sure he's comfortable. I don't want Bobby to know that I sense impending death on the dog. He probably won't make it through the night.

 

"Remy?" Surprised, Bobby places his right hand on my shoulder. "Talk to me, what's going on? You're crying."

 

Merde! Quickly, I wipe away my tears. "Rien!" I try to get to my feet, but Bobby's hand keeps me in place. Nauseous, I wish he'd leave me alone with the dog.

 

"We can take him to a vet if you want to," Bobby offers.

 

"De vet can' help him, Bobby." Merde, that's more than I want him to know.

 

"What do you mean?" Bobby studies the dog. "He looks..."

 

"Old, malnourished..." I finish for him and cave in. "He's dyin', won' last de night."

 

Bobby's breath hitches. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

 

The funny thing is that he doesn't even question my words; doesn't even want to know why I think the dog's dying. Instead of answering Bobby, I carefully slip my hands beneath the starved dog's body and lift him gently. "I wanna take him home and let him die in peace," I finally whisper, informing Bobby of my intentions and if he has a problem with that I don't care!

 

"Lemme help." Bobby picks up the tree and starts for the car. He secures the tree and then opens the car door. "We'll go home and make sure he's comfortable."

 

I'm relieved Bobby's isn't protesting my decision and I tightly hold the dog as I slip onto the passenger's seat. His old bones are causing him pain and tormented brown eyes lock with mine. I know he's feeling me, much like I can feel his presence in my mind. It's been years since I used my empathy to lessen pain and I find myself reaching out, locking his pain away.

 

"What are you doing?" Bobby's driving away from the mall, giving me an odd look. "He seems calmer and stopped whimpering."

 

I don't want Bobby to know about my empathy so I remain quiet, concentrating on the animal in my arms. Although he's a different breed than Bisou he bears some resemblance to him. Peeking at Bobby, I find he's biting his lower lip. I sense his curiosity and even some hurt because I won't talk to him. "Bobby, it's... personal. You didn' do any't'in' wrong." That seems to reassure him a little.

 

"I guess you just took me by surprise," Bobby admits. "You never struck me as the kind of guy who'd take in strays."

 

I release a bitter laugh. They don't know me at all. None of the X-Men does. "Den you don' know much 'bout me, non?" Bobby nods his head and that surprises me. "Bobby?"

 

"I don't know you at all, Remy," he admits softly. "Damned shame, considering you've been living with us for years."

 

I avoid his eyes and look outside instead. The dog has grown calm in my arms and is dozing comfortably. "You never made de effort to get to know me." None of them did.

 

"Maybe this is my chance to find out more about you," Bobby whispers softly while approaching the mansion's gates. "I've got the feeling I'm in for a lot of surprises."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

I expect him to drop me off at the boathouse and then leave for the mansion, but Bobby shuts down the engine and drags the Christmas tree inside, putting it in the center of the living room. Then he returns to the car to get the lights and decorations. I watch him from the couch, still cradling the sleepy dog in my arms. "Bobby?"

 

"Yeah?" Bobby switches on the Christmas lights and takes a step back to admire his handy work.

 

"Would you get a blanket from my bedroom? Make dat two." I'd go myself, but I don't want to let go of the dog.

 

"Sure, Remy." Bobby strides upstairs and collects the blankets. "Where do you want them?"

 

"Put dem on de ot'er end of de couch."

 

Bobby creates a cocoon and smiles. "He'll be comfortable here. Want me to fix him something to eat?"

 

Bobby surprises me. I never expected him to want to take care of the dog. "Oui, merci." I carry the dog over to the blankets and tuck them around him. A contented sigh slips into my mind and I fight my watering eyes, knowing his last hours have arrived. The feel of death on him is growing stronger.

 

Minutes later Bobby returns with a bowl, filled with meat which he already cut into tiny pieces. "I reckon he doesn't have any teeth left," he explains. "I had a dog of my own once and when he got old he lost his teeth. We had to put him to sleep eventually."

 

That explains why he's worried about the dog. "Merci, Bobby." Using my empathy to encourage the dog to eat, I place the bowl in front of him. I'm stroking his head, rubbing behind his ears and he seems at peace. I almost forget about Bobby, but then his words pull me back.

 

"I'll start dinner. I could use your help, but it's okay if you want to stay with him."

 

Bobby... why is he so nice to me all of a sudden? Looking up at him, I'm assaulted by his emotions and I block them at once. I won't spy on him! "I'll join you in a minute." Bobby disappears into the kitchen, giving me some time alone with the dog. "You don' have to be 'fraid, petit. You'll fall asleep and dere won' be any pain. I promise." He'll have a peaceful death. He's eaten all he can and his eyes close again. "Sleep, petit. I'll be close and when de time comes I'll make it easy on you."

 

I need a moment to compose myself before I can join Bobby in the kitchen. He's already boiling the potatoes and grilling the steaks. I don't feel hungry at all but I will make an effort to eat because Bobby went through all this trouble.

 

"You ever had a dog, Remy?" Bobby's washing the greens.

 

I can't see his face as his back is turned toward me. I moisten my dry lips before answering him. "Oui, his name was Bisou."

 

"Bisou? That's a strange name for a dog. Help me out here; I don't know that much French."

 

"It means kiss."

 

"Kiss?" This time Bobby turns around and looks up. "Why did you name him 'kiss'?

 

"When I got him he was only a puppy," I explain while setting the table. "His tongue was a let'al weapon and he licked and kissed my face..." Merde, why am I putting myself through the pain again? "Table's set. I'm gonna check on our guest." I flee the kitchen, but still catch Bobby's stunned expression.

 

The dog's asleep, but his strength is still deteriorating. He'll die in a few hours. Sitting on my heels in front of him I stroke his head. Bobby's coming up behind me and I should rise to my feet, but can't. I'm empathically connected to the dog and drawn close.

 

"You really care about that dog, don't you?" Bobby sits on his heels beside me and strokes the dog's flank. "Remy, why don't you tell me what's going on? I'm no telepath, but the professor taught us how to detect one. Are you a telepath? I'm asking because I feel something whenever you're close to the dog."

 

A bitter chuckle leaves my lips. "I ain' a telepat'."

 

"Then what is it? You can't deny something is going on." Bobby's hand settles on my shoulder, squeezing it encouragingly. "Why do you always hold back? You said that we never tried to get to know you, but you're not making things easier either, Remy. You always keep us... me at a distance."

 

"You're right," I admit and take a deep breath. "I 'ways kept you at a distance."

 

"Why?"

 

"It's hard for me to trust anyone."

 

Bobby's brow grows furrowed. "Why's that?"

 

Oh, how do I explain my past to him? I really don't want to. "In my yout' some t'ing's happened dat made it hard for me to trust people. It ain' you, Bobby. You're tryin' to be a friend, mais..."

 

"I won't tell anyone, Remy. Nothing you tell me will leave this room."

 

Bobby sounds sincere and serious, and I want to trust him, but I can't. People let me down too many times for me to trust again. I can't tell him about my past, but I will try to meet him halfway. "I'm an empat'. A weak one, mais I can feel his pain and take it 'way."

 

"An empath?" Shock is written all over Bobby's face as his eyes stay locked with mine. "You're an empath and never told us?" Bobby's shaking his head in disbelief. "Oh man, you must be hurting... you've been hurting all this time and never told us?"

 

What's he talking about? "Bobby?"

 

"Remy, I know about empaths! I've fought them and had them as allies. They feel everything especially deep and... We never tried to dampen our feelings when you were close. You're still hurting, aren't you? The trial... Man, that must have hurt badly. Why didn't you tell us?" Anger slips into his voice. "You must know Hank would never have told anyone without your consent. You could have confided in him!"

 

Bobby's reaction stuns me. I never expected him to react in that way. "Bobby, it's bien. I can deal wit' it!"

 

"You were fucking crying because you felt his pain!" Bobby points out while stroking the dog's head. "And you're telling me you can 'deal' with it? Damn it, Remy!"

 

My shields drop momentarily as his fierce emotions batter it down. I lower my gaze and shake my head. "Don' do dis, Bobby."

 

"You can feel my anger now, don't you? Do you also feel my worry? Remy, you..." Words fail him as he rises to his feet. "I don't know what to say."

 

"Jus' don' tell the ot'ers, Bobby," I say pleadingly. But his emotions puzzle me. Now that my shields are down I feel his anger and worry, but there's something else mixed in; an emotion which I can't identify.

 

"I promised to keep your secret," Bobby says, still fighting his own emotions. "But I don't understand why you insist to keep it a secret. What the hell are you afraid of?"

 

I blurt out the truth unintended. "Dat you'll t'ink I manipulated your feelings!"

 

"So that's it?" Bobby's eyes are filled with shocked disbelief. "You've been locking your empathy away for all these years?"

 

I nod my head once. I want this conversation to end; Bobby's dragging too many secrets from me. Why did he have to come here in the first place?

"Remy? Do me a favor? Don't lock it away when we're alone? Now that I know about your empathy I don't want you to deny it. And don't worry about manipulating my feelings." Embittered, he laughs. "And you still haven't figured it out!"

 

"Bobby?" That last remark really puzzles me. What am I supposed to have figured out?

 

"Forget about it, Remy and let's eat dinner." Bobby quickly disappears into the kitchen.

 

But his words still puzzle me. What am I supposed to have figured out? Does it have something to do with that emotion I picked up on but can't label? I get to my feet as well and follow him into the kitchen. We eat in silence. I'm still trying to make sense of his words and Bobby doesn't seem inclined to tell me more.

 

While doing the dishes in a more comfortable silence something sharp tugs at my mind and I recognize the sensation. "He's 'bout to die," I whisper, drop the dish towel and hurry back to the living room. The dog's breathing is shallow and his eyes open to lock with mine. He knows what's going to happen and I sit down beside him, pull him onto my lap and hold him.

 

"I made you a promise, mon ami, and I'll keep it. No pain, jus' go back to sleep." I can feel him letting go and I hold him tight as he releases his last breath. Warm fingers curl themselves around mine. I didn't even notice that Bobby sat down next to me! The dazed look in his eyes tells me he figured out what I've been doing. I should never have told him that I'm an empath!

 

"Remy, you made it easier for him. You helped him, cared for him, but he's dead now."

 

"I know dat!" The concern he's radiating isn't comforting and I feel restrained; I can't show my own emotions like I want to, need to. "Please go, Bobby." I need him out of here.

 

"Remy, are you sure that's the smart thing to do? You just felt his death. I'm no empath, but I bet that's a shattering experience."

 

"Felt it 'fore. It's no big deal. Jus' leave." I'm shutting him out of purpose. Jean-Luc and tante would berate me and encourage me to accept the support Bobby's offering, but I want to grieve alone.

 

"If that's what you really want." With obvious reluctance, Bobby rises from the couch. "Are you really sure? I can stay..."

 

"I'm sure. Jus' go 'way." I'm hugging the dog's dead body, still able to feel his body heat. Please Bobby, just leave me alone!

 

"Okay," Bobby says reluctantly. "But call me at the mansion if you need someone to talk to? Please, Remy?"

 

I nod my head once. "I know you wanna help, mais Bobby you can'. Trust me, I need to do dis on my own."

 

Bobby moves to the door, gives me a sad smile and then steps outside into the bitter cold. I'm rocking the dog, mourning his passing. I'll bury him later; I need to say goodbye first.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Loud banging on the front door wakes me the next morning. I crawled into bed after burying the old dog and now want to stay beneath the blankets forever. The sensation of death is still near and I know it will stay near for the next few days. I should have been more careful, should have kept my distance when the dog died, but I made a promise.

 

The banging continues and I drag myself from the bed. My toes shiver, hitting the cold floor. I turned the temperature down before I went to bed and haven't raised it yet. Wearing only a worn T-shirt I make my way to the front door. Merde, it's cold. Maybe I should have taken a moment to slip into a morning robe or wrap a blanket around me. It's too late now. I open the front door and gasp in shock as the cold hits me.

 

"Bobby?" Bobby's standing on the doorstep, wearing a warm parka and snow boots. His hair slipped from beneath the shawl he wrapped around his head and neck. Why is he wearing this many clothes? Why not ice up instead?

 

"Here!" Bobby extends his arms. He's carrying something, and it's wrapped in thick, fluffy towels. "Merry Christmas, Remy."

 

Suddenly I've got a moving bundle in my arms and I recognize the whimpers that escape it. Mischievous blue eyes stare at me from the confines of the fabric and I sense his life energy. A puppy? Bobby just pushed a puppy into my arms? Speaking of Bobby... where the hell did he go? He's walking away from the boathouse, growing smaller. Reacting instinctively, I bite down the cold and run after him. "Bobby, wait!" It takes me a minute to cover the distance and my feet already feel frozen now that they are covered in snow and ice. The cold seeps up my legs, into my chest and I can feel my lungs tremble with remembered agony. Please, mon Dieu, don't let me catch pneumonia again!

 

Bobby turns around and his eyes grow big. "Remy, what the hell are you doing? You're only wearing a T-shirt! Get your ass back inside!" He unzips his parka, shrugs out of it and drapes it over my shoulders. "Get moving, Cajun!"

 

Dazed, I allow him to lead me back inside and I obediently sit down on the couch. The puppy is squirming, seeking my attention. "Everyt'in' is bien, petit." Before I realize what I'm doing I'm reaching out again, empathically, to soothe the dog. What's wrong with me these days? I've kept my empathy locked away for years and now it's stronger than it ever was!

 

Bobby removes his boots, collects a blanket from my bedroom and drapes it over my shoulders. He looks... angry?

 

"What do you think you were doing? Following me like that? You're only wearing a shirt!"

 

Still dazed, I stare at his eyes. This is more than just anger born out of concern; I recognize the emotion behind it. Mon Dieu, does he love me? The puppy moves about in my arms and I put him on my lap, absentmindedly rubbing his back. My attention is completely focused on Bobby, whose expression changes suddenly.

 

"You finally figured it out, huh?" Bobby starts to get up, slipping back into his parka. "I better leave now."

 

"You love me?" Mouth agape, I can only stare at him. How can he love me and why did it take me so long to find out? I'm an empath! "Bobby, you love me? Oui?"

Bobby lowers his eyes and wrings his hands. "Yeah, I love you."

 

"For how long? When did it start? Why?" I'm raving and only the puppy's presence prevents me from jumping to my feet. "I don' understand!"

"I fell in love with you some months ago," Bobby starts, reluctantly. "After you got back from Antarctica."

 

"Is dat why you ended t'ings wit' Andy?" I can't believe we're having this conversation! He can't be in love with me, but he gave me this puppy and the feeling is there, vibrating strongly. Bobby's in love with me!

 

"Yeah. I wanted you, not him, but I never made a move, knowing you love Rogue." Bobby's eyes reveal his misery. "I never wanted you to find out. It's obvious you don't love me back, so let's forget we ever had this conversation."

 

"Why de puppy, cher?" Mon Dieu, why am I reacting to his feelings? I'm not in love with him... I think. But then again, I've been out of touch with my feelings for so long that everything is possible! I hesitantly place my hand on his wrist, making sure he can't leave. "Please stay."

 

"The puppy?" Bobby swallows the lump that formed in his throat. "You looked so lost last night when that dog died. I wanted you to have something that reminded you of life instead of dead."

 

"Did you 'ready name him?" The puppy's fallen asleep in my arms and I try hard not to wake him.

 

"I was thinking about Wiggles."

 

"Wiggles, cher?" Now that's a strange name for a dog!

 

"He walks funny; it's more like a wiggling motion. You'll see when you put him down."

 

"He's 'sleep now." Tenderness slips into my voice and gives me away. "Merci, cher. It's been years since someone gave me such a precious present."

 

"So you're gonna keep him? Cool." Bobby slowly moves away, shaking off my hand in the process. "I better head back for the mansion now."

 

"Bobby?" I quickly move in front of him. "We need to talk." His resigned glance tells me he doesn't expect the conversation to be a pleasant one. "I ain' sure I love you back. I ain' sure 'bout anyt'in' right now." I've been in turmoil since breaking up with Rogue and I can't seem to get a grip on my situation. "I need time to figure out my feelings for you."

 

"That's okay, Remy. I didn't think you loved me back, but I should be going now."

 

"Stay, Bobby." While cradling the puppy against my chest, I grab his wrist and pull him towards the stairs. "Keep us warm?"

 

Bobby's eyes widen. "Remy..."

 

"I'm not askin' you to have sex wit' me, cher. It's way too early to take dat step." I manage to pull him upstairs and into my bedroom. "Jus' hold me?"

 

Bobby relaxes. "I can do that... I think."

 

His insecurity is real and reassures me everything is okay between us. Shivering from the cold I lie down, pull the puppy close to my chest and wait for Bobby to spoon up behind me. At first he feels cold, but then his body heat warms me. "Pull up de blankets?" Bobby complies and I press back, moulding myself to his body. "Dis okay?"

 

"Yeah, this feels great."

 

Bobby wraps his arms around me and I sigh blissfully. I don't know where this relationship is headed and only time will tell, but he loves me. "Merci for Wiggles."

 

"I knew you'd like him." Bobby nuzzles my neck. "You look tired, Remy. Why don't you try to get back to sleep?"

 

"And you'll stay?"

 

"Yeah, I'll stay."

 

"Bien." Closing my eyes, I enjoy feeling him spooned behind me. I'm surprised at how safe I feel. Only Jean-Luc could make me feel like that and it should tell me something. I'm attracted to Bobby as well. "Can' stay 'wake, Bobby, sorry, cher..."

 

"Then go to sleep, Remy."

 

Bobby kisses a strand of my hair and I feel warm and cherished. Relaxing, I give in and fall asleep in his arms, hoping I can learn to trust again.

 

 

The end.

December 2001


	4. Learning to Trust Again

Learning to Trust Again  
By Morgana

Rating: R

Mmmm, that was a nice dream. Took me by surprise, that dream. I've only had nightmares these last few nights so this dream is a welcome distraction. Bobby came to the boathouse, thrust a puppy into my arms and then confessed his love for me. Yeah, right, like he could ever love me! But it was a nice dream...

Opening my eyes I stare at the ceiling. I'm alone in my bed; no surprises there, it was a dream after all. Restlessly, I push myself into a sitting position and rest my back against the headboard. Merde! I forgot to call Jean-Luc last night!

I check the time and find it's two in the afternoon. What am I still doing in bed? Trying to remember what happened, my thoughts run in circles always ending up reliving that dream. I must have been asleep for hours, probably fell asleep without even noticing it. That's very unlike me and goes against everything Jean-Luc ever taught me. A thief needs to be alert and vigilant at all time!

My growling stomach reminds me of the fact that it needs food and I reluctantly leave my bed. Merde, it's still cold. First thing I'm going to do is raise the room temperature and then I'm going to make some strong coffee that will help me through the day. Only wearing my old T-shirt, I stumble downstairs. I head for the temperature control and raise the temperature inside the house. One look outside tells me that it's still snowing; how I wish it would finally stop! I hate that unblamished whiteness.

Rubbing my eyes I make my way into the living room to pick up one of the blankets that I left on the couch. I'm cold and wrapping it around me will warm me up. I'm in the process of grabbing it when soft, twinkling lights stop me in my tracks. A Christmas tree? How the hell did that one get inside? Shocked, I stare at it in disbelief. Bobby bought a tree in my dream, but a dream isn't real. Am I finally losing my mind? Shivering like a leaf I make my way over to the tree and touch it. Oui, it's real! "Can' be!"

Unexpected noises emanate from behind me and they're coming from the front door. Turning slowly around, I listen to the sound of footfalls. Who's visiting me and why? A sharp knock on the door pulls me away from my musings.

"Come on, Remy, wake up! Wiggles is getting cold!"

This can't be happening! It's impossible! It was a dream and dreams aren't real. I don't know what to do or how to react. Bobby and the puppy can't be outside... it's impossible!

"Remy, Wiggles is freezing!"

Raising a shaky hand, I put it on the doorknob and open the door. Bobby's standing in front of me, partly covered in snow and Wiggles is trying to get closer to me, jumping and pulling at his leash. "Bob...by?" I'm trying to understand what's happening, but my brain isn't co-operating... it was just a dream, wasn't it?

"Remy? You're shaking!" Bobby quickly steps inside and closes the door behind him. He removes the leash and picks up Wiggles, rubbing the puppy behind his ears. Soft barking echoes through the boathouse as Wiggles wants to show his contentment. "He's a good little puppy. He waited until we got outside to do his business instead of dropping everything on the kitchen floor. I also picked up some dog food."

Bobby's concerned eyes lock with mine. Does he know I thought everything was just a dream? That I was convinced he was never here? That the puppy was just a figment of my imagination?

"You'd better sit down, Remy. You look like you're ready to keel over."

Bobby puts an arm around my waist and guides me to one of the couches. Sitting down, I continue to stare at him and Wiggles. Bobby shrugs out of his parka, removes his boots and sits down next to me, putting Wiggles on my lap. The walk to the mansion drained the little rascal and he curls up, rapidly falling asleep.

"Remy, what's going on? You look like you've seen a ghost." Bobby gently places his hand on my arm, watching my face to make sure he isn't trespassing. "I didn't startle you be leaving like that? I wanted to leave a note, but Wiggles really needed to pee."

"I t'ought it was jus' a dream," I blurt out, unintended. Merde, I don't want him to know. What's wrong with me? I kept my distance all these years, locked my empathy away and now I'm acting like the street kid Jean-Luc took in.

"A dream?" Bobby smiles. "Not a dream, Remy."

At a loss, I stroke Wiggles' head. The puppy is comfortably asleep on my lap and his body heat seeps into my tired bones.

"I don't know about you, Remy, but I'm hungry. I'm gonna make some grilled cheese sandwiches."

"Bobby," I start, holding onto his arm when he wants to get up. "I don' t'ink I've got any cheese..." Or bread for that matter.

"That's okay." Bobby points at a bag which he dropped near the front door. "I come fully equipped."

I let go of his arm and he moves into the kitchen, getting started on the sandwiches. I'm grateful that he gives me some time to compose myself. Am I still dreaming or is this really happening? Maybe... I pinch my arm and my eyes grow big. I felt that! It hurt! This is really happening!

Picking up the puppy, I deposit him on the couch and cover him with a warm blanket. Wiggles never wakes up and remains curled up beneath the blanket. I rise from the couch and hesitantly approach Bobby, who's humming a melody and obviously having a great time. Searching my memory I recall him confessing his love for me and me dragging him upstairs to my bed.

"Remy? You're spooking me..." Bobby's eyes reveal his worry. "What's going on? You're acting like a sleepwalker; like you never expected me to come back." He grows quiet, realizing that's just what happened. "You thought this never happened? That it was just a dream?"

"Are you sure you ain' a telepat'?" It's eerie, the way he knows my every thought. My face is growing hot and I'm blushing, being caught like that. "T'ought it was a dream, oui."

Bobby picks up the plate with grilled sandwhiches and gives me a long and thoughtful look. "Let's eat, Remy."

Without saying another word he places them on the kitchen table and also pours some tea. When did he make tea? I'm slipping. I take the chair opposite him, wondering why I feel the need to distance myself from him.

"We need to talk, Remy," Bobby says eventually while sipping his tea.

"I know dat." But I don't know how to start this conversation.

"I need to know where we stand, Remy. How do you feel about me plunging into your life like this, professing my love for you?"

I moisten my chapped lips. "I never expected it." Staring at my sandwich and the tea I know I owe him a better answer. "I like you, Bobby, 'ways did, mais... I was wit' Rogue."

"Rogue and you are no longer together," Bobby points out, while taking tiny bites from his sandwich. "Or are you going to try win her back?"

"Non." I no longer want Rogue; I'm sure of that, but do I want Bobby? "You surprised me."

Bobby nods his head in acknowledgment. "You never saw it coming?"

"Non." I take a bite out of the sandwich, surprised at how good it tastes.

"There's just one thing I don't understand," Bobby starts, "you're an empath. How could you not know I'm in love with you?"

"Locked it 'way, remember?" I avert my eyes, not eager to look him in the eyes. I haven't done this much emotional bloodletting since Jean-Luc found me. "Mais it's back now and it's strong."

"Remy, don't lock it away again? Please. Don't shut it out." Bobby seems uncertain and briefly his hand hovers above mine, but then he pulls back. "I also need to know where we stand, Remy. How do you feel about me?"

"I don' know, Bobby." I flinch, speaking those words; feeling Bobby's disappointment. I need to soften my words. "Never expected you to fall in love wit' me and I... I feel so confused right now. Christmas is 'ways a very emotional time for me." Okay, I didn't want to reveal that last part to him, but I did and I already feel his questions.

"Why's that?" Bobby stopped eating and is now sipping his tea.

"I can' talk 'bout it right now," I mumble apologetically. "It's hard."

"I can wait," Bobby assures me. "But... are we... dating? Just friends or more?"

He really deserves an answer to that question. "Bobby, I can' make any promises right now. I need time to figure t'ings out, mais I'd like... like you to stay at de boathouse for Christmas." Bobby gives me a hard look and I swallow the lump in my throat. "I wanna make dis work, mais..." Suddenly Bobby's hand covers mine, reassuringly rubbing my knuckles. Please, let him understand that this is all I can give him for now.

"Then I'll stay," Bobby says pleased and smiles brilliantly. "It's a good thing you invited me to stay, Remy, because I already packed an overnight bag."

Following the direction of his gaze I see the duffel bag next to the couch. A smile curls my lips; Bobby certainly wants this to work out. Gentle barking coming from the living room tells me Wiggles woke up and I want to check on him, pick him up and cuddle him. "Merci for Wiggles." I said it before, but I want him to know I love the little dog. Bobby follows me into the living room and Wiggles frees himself of the blanket to jump onto my lap.

"He likes you," Bobby comments while pulling the blanket over my knees.

Merde, I'm running around in a T-shirt!

"Shouldn't you put on something warmer? You feel cold."

"I will. Jus' gimme a minute here, Bobby." I cuddle Wiggles and am rewarded with puppy dog kisses. Peeking at Bobby I find that a content smile has settled on his face. "Why didn' you tell me?"

"About what?" Bobby sounds puzzled.

"'bout bein' in love wit' me? Jus' 'cause of Rogue?"

"Partly," he admits. "I didn't want to come between the two of you and you never gave the impression you liked men in that way so I figured I didn't stand a chance."

"I'm bi," I whisper, suddenly feeling nervous. "Mais I never acted on it 'fore."

Bobby nods his head once. "I thought so much. So this is new to you? Being with a man?"

"Oui," I admit shyly.

"Can I ask you something personal, Remy?" Bobby licks his lips, growing nervous.

"Can' promise I'll answer."

"You said that some things happened in your past that make it hard for you to trust people. Will you tell me what happened?"

Bobby's stroking Wiggles' head and suddenly his fingers caress my hand instead. Our eyes hesitantly meet and I manage to keep my breathing steady. I don't know what's happening, but Bobby's presence makes me feel extremely comfortable. "I don' t'ink I can."

Bobby is conflicted and chooses his next words carefully. "Can't you try? I don't want to pressure you, but... I wanna help."

Smiling warmly, I lock eyes with Bobby. "Merci for offerin', cher, mais you can' help." Bobby remains quiet, begging me to tell him what he wants to know with his eyes. "I was abused as a chile." Biting my lower lip I hope my answer will satisfy him.

"A...abused?" Bobby stutters, obviously distressed. "Remy?"

I take a deep breath before looking him in the eyes again. "It lasted two years, then Jean-Luc LeBeau took me in and adopted me." I can tell he's shocked. Merde, this is what I wanted to avoid! "Mebbe dis is a bad idea."

"No, you're doing the right thing by telling me," Bobby says reassuringly. "Remy, I've got to know..."

I don't let him finish the question. "I was sexually abused, oui."

Bobby's eyes almost pop from their sockets. "And you were just a kid? Where were your parents? Why didn't they stop the abuse?"

I laugh embittered. "Cause I don' have parents, Bobby. I grew up wit' a man who'd taken me in." I try hard not to think back to the time I spent with the Antiquary. Although the old man didn't abuse the children in his collection he still controled us in different ways. "I ran 'way when I was 'bout ten and ended up on de streets. I had to survive somehow..." I'm not sure how Bobby will react to my confession. "I never told Rogue..." I add thoughtfully. "I'm tryin' to trust you..."

Bobby's shaking his head. "Why didn't I know? Why didn't you tell us? Does Scott and the professor now?"

"Only you know..." I move slightly away from him, steeling myself for his rejection. I never told Rogue because she'd drop me like a hot potato.

"Remy, did you ever talk to a psychatrist? You were only a kid and... how did you deal with it?" Bobby moves closer again, concern colors his eyes.

"Jean-Luc made me go to counciling. I dealt wit' it, Bobby. De memories will never leave completely, but I can control dem. Dey don' control me."

"Maybe that's why you never acted when you felt attracted to a man."

Bobby's smart and figured it out. "Oui, dat's probably it." Bobby's hand is still caressing mine and I feel lost. I expect him to put an end to this 'relationship' if I can call it that, but he's still here, holding my hand. I hesitantly meet his gaze and am shocked to find remnants of tears on his cheek. "Are you cryin'?"

"Fuck," Bobby mutters and quickly wipes away the tears that made it down his cheek. "I never knew something that traumatic happened to you."

"'most looks like you're de empat' here," I say teasingly, shocked that he cares this much. "Don' worry too much 'bout my past, Bobby. It no longer affects me dat much."

"How can you say that?" Bobby's whispering, still battling with his emotions. "If something like that had happened to me as a kid I... My God, I don't know if I could have dealt with it."

Smiling, I raise my hand and wipe away the remaining tears. These tears are precious to me. "Mebbe now you understand why I have a hard time trustin' people?"

"Yeah, I do." Bobby composes himself again, but doesn't let go of my hand. "I won't let you down. Are there any things I should be aware of? Things that spook you?"

"Not really, cher." I blush. "Dis is de first time I'm datin' a man so I really don' know. We'll find out toget'er, oui?"  
"Oh yeah!" Bobby moves a little closer. "Remy, are you really sure you want to try this? I'll understand if you don't want to be with me. I don't want to freak you out."

"You won' freak me out, Bobby." Okay, he passed his first test. He's still here and not running away from me in disgust. Maybe this will work out. Feeling a little lightheaded I wonder how he'll react if I kiss him. Am I ready to take that step? There's only one way to find out! "Can I... Can I kiss you?"

Bobby's eyes grow impossibly big. "Remy..."

"Oui or non, cher?" Bobby has to be sure about this. I won't kiss him if he doesn't want me to. Asking permission takes away some of the magic that's surrounding us, but I need his answer.

"Oui... uh, yes."

Bobby's nervous and holds still, letting me make the first move. After drawing in a deep breath, I lean in closer, gently brushing his lips with mine. A soft moan escapes his lips and flows into my mouth. I still can't believe this is really happening. Cupping the back of his head in my palm I deepen the kiss slightly, constantly looking for signs, which will tell me he wants to stop, but then one arm wraps itself around my waist and he's pulling me closer.

Keeping my eyes locked with his enables me to easier gauge his reactions and I realize that Bobby's trying to do the same thing. I break off the kiss and snuggle close to him. "I liked dat."

"Me too," Bobby whispers, pleased. "Remy... you will tell me if I do something that makes you uncomfortable, won't you?"

I already regret telling him about my past; his whole manner has changed. "Don' hold back, Bobby. It happened a long time ago."

"You will tell me?" Bobby persists.

"Oui, I will," I sigh, displeased. "I ain' gonna break, you know. I ain' fragile china."

"Then why does everything about you scream 'handle with care'?"

I lower my eyes, wondering what's going on here. I feel his love, his concern and I'm reacting to it, but there's something else, something more and I can't label it. It almost feels spiritual, the way he's treating me. Maybe it's because he really loves me? Rogue never acted this way.

"Why don't we watch some TV and simply enjoy sitting here?" Bobby smiles, takes hold of the remote control and finds a movie called Ernest saves Christmas. I continue to soak up his closeness and warmth and begin to relax. Tension leaves my body and I rest my head on his shoulder, hiding deeper beneath the blanket. Wiggles is still sound asleep and feels warm on my lap.

"Watchin' TV sounds jus' fine."

Bobby's soft laugh makes me chuckle. I didn't know I could feel this at peace. Lured into sleep by Bobby's body heat and soothing presence I start to dream.

"Oui, you're finally sleepin' comfortably," Henri says, pleased.

Ha! I'm not sleeping, but it feels good to know I can fool Henri. Well, maybe I shouldn't pretend and tell Henri I'm awake. "M'sieur? Fooled you." My eyes flash open and Bisou is waking up as well. Henri smiles at me and I sit upright. A coughing fit turns me breathless and I shiver, seeing Henri reach for the cough syrup tante left behind. "Don' need it, m'sieur. I'm bien."

"Don' give me any trouble, petit. Mattie told me to feed you dis twice a day and I'll do jus' dat. Now open up."

Sighing, I obdiently swallow the cough syrup, which tastes awful. "Ai, m'sieur... no more." Henri pulls up the blankets and tucks them around me. "Where's m'sieur Jean-Luc?"

"Off to a business meetin'. He'll be back for dinner." Henri leans back in his chair. "When's your birt'day, Remy?"

Lowering my eyes, I gently stroke Bisou's flank. "Don' know, m'sieur."

"Who are your parents, petit?"

"Don' know dat eit'er." I'm starting to feel uncomfortable, suddenly realizing this is the first time I'm alone with Henri. Until now either Jean-Luc or tante were present. Pinching my eyes half shut, I try to study him unnoticed. Can I trust him? I'm not sure.

"What's de first t'ing you remember?"

De first thing? I raise an eyebrow, wondering why Henri's asking these questions. "Dat must be de Antiquary."

"How long were you part of his collection?"

Alarmed, I suck in my breath. How much does Henri know of the Antiquary and the kids he collected? I need to be careful now. What if he's a spy the Antiqury sent to take me back? "Years," I whisper evasively. If only Jean-Luc were here! I don't know why I trust him, but I do.

"I regret makin' you uncomfortable, Remy, but we're tryin' to find your parents so everything you can tell us would be helpful."

"My parents? M'sieur, I don' have any recollection of dem. I'm sure I never met dem so how can you find dem? C'est impossible." The mere thought that they are looking for my parents shocks me. Why would they do that?

Henri decides to change the subject. "Are you hungry, petit? I'm sure dere are some leftovers from last night's dinner."

I'm not sure how to answer that one. Oui, I'm hungry, but I'm not used to people offering me food. "What do you want in return?" Oui, Jean-Luc tried to explain to me that there isn't a price involved, but I still can't believe him. They'll want to collect soon. Henri's gaze grows puzzled and then displeased.

"Didn' père tell you dere's no price?" Henri gets to his feet and walks over to the doorway. "I'll get you something to eat and den we'll walk Bisou."

I release a relieved sigh when he finally leaves the room. Bisou's fully awake now and begging for my attention. I play and talk to him and then hug him close. I love this dog. When Henri returns a few minutes later I put Bisou down on the floor and hide beneath the blankets.

Henri shakes his head, displeased, and places a tray on the bed. "Try to eat something? I'll ask tante to help you dress."

"I can get dressed on my own! I ain' a bébé!" I don't need tante's help; I can do this on my own. I never depended on anyone before and I'm not going to start now. Looking at the food I wonder if I can risk eating it. What if Henri drugged it? I'm shaking, realizing I'm working myself in to a frenzy. There's no reason for Henri to drug the food and if he'd wanted to hurt me he could have already done so. I just don't feel at ease when he's around. I want Jean-Luc!

"Eat and get dressed," Henri instructs. "And den we're going for dat walk. De fresh air will do you good as well. You haven' been outside for five days now."

Five days? I lost track of time. The last time I went outside was when I tried to run away on New Year's Eve. Jean-Luc and Henri found me that time. I've been fighting this cold ever since, but I've got to admit I'm feeling better and yes, maybe the fresh air will help me clear my head. It's about time I cleaned up my act! Jean-Luc, Henri and tante probably think I'm a headcase, considering the way I've been acting.

Henri steps into the corridor, leaving me alone. I dig into the food and empty the plate. I didn't realize I was that hungry! Bisou is already pacing near the doorway, urging me to hurry up. After climbing out of the huge big four poster bed I open my closet and stare at the clothes inside. Jean-Luc told me they were mine, but I still can't believe him.

I select a pair of jeans, clean briefs, a white T-shirt and a brown sweater. I quickly dress and then put on the warm boots that will fight off the cold. Suddenly a hand settles down on my shoulder and I startle, emitting a strangled scream.

"Remy, calm down. It's jus' me, Henri."

The expression in his eyes tells me my reaction shocked him. I'm struggling for breath, leaning heavily against the wall. "Please don' do dat, m'sieur."

"I'm sorry I statled you, petit. I wasn' t'inking and I promise I won' 'sneak' up on you again."

I feel ashamed that he figured it out so quickly. "Non, it's my fault, m'sieur. I..." How can I tell him how scared I am, always was, especially on the streets? "Can' believe you want me here, m'sieur. Can' believe I'm really off de streets. I still expect you to throw me out 'gain." I can't believe I told Henri that.

Henri lowers himself onto his heels. "Listen, Remy. We want you here, oui? Give us some time to prove dat to you."

I nod my head and shuffle my feet. Bisou's pitiful yelps reminds us that we really need to walk the puppy. Henri gets my coat and helps me into it. After zipping it up, he makes sure I'm wearing my mittens and then extends his hand.

"Are you comin', Remy?"

I can only stare at his hand. Do I dare to take it? I hesitantly raise my right hand and place it in his. "Oui, m'sieur, I'm ready to go." I follow him downstairs and gasp as the cold wind hits my skin after stepping onto the street. Bisou immediately lifts his leg and pees. "You're a good little puppy," I say encourgingly.

I grow extremely aware of Henri's fingers curled around mine. Bisou is pulling at his leash, but Henri makes sure the puppy can't get away. It feels strange, walking these streets with someone who cares about me. I remember curling up on the pavement, expecting to die, only to be welcomed into the LeBeau household.

"Dey're lookin' at me," I whisper, feeling nervous. "It's my eyes, m'sieur. Mebbe we should go back inside."

'Non, Remy, we're walkin' Bisou and we'll have some hot chocolate before headin' home 'gain. You're wit' me, petit, don' be 'fraid."

Swallowing hard, I fight the tears in my eyes. Mon Dieu, I've never know anyone who wants to protect me and I wonder if this is how kids feel who still have a father. It's hard to believe that I don't have to steal any food, that Henri will pay for the hot chocolate and that he will make sure I'm fine. I no longer have to look out for myself and it feels liberating to accept that someone else is doing it for me.

Feeling lightheaded, I begin to hum one of tante's melodies, watching Bisou sneak up on a snowman. "M'sieur?"

"Oui, Remy?"

"Can I call you Henri?"

"I already told you to call me Henri," he says, pleased. "I'd be honored, petit frère."

"Why do you say dat? I ain' your brot'er." I feel saddened by the fact that he isn't my real brother. I want a family more than anything else.

"But you are my petit frère, don' doubt dat." Henri's tone is determined and serious. "Let's move 'long, Remy. You feel cold and I'm sure you'd love some hot chocolate."

I let him guide me through the streets, dazed and incredibly pleased.

 

"Hey, Remy, wake up."

"Huh?" Sleepily, I open my eyes, wondering who's trying to make me wake up. "Bobby?" I blink a few times, realizing how close Bobby is. We're on the couch and I'm curled up next to him; my head is on his shoulder and my hands are in his lap. Bobby's gently rubbing my hands, warming them. Disorientated and puzzled, I try to remember why Bobby's here. Oh yeah, we decided to give this relationship a chance. "Where's Wiggles?"

"On the floor, chasing his own tail," Bobby chuckles. "Hey, are you okay? You've been sleeping for hours now and my neck is growing stiff. I need to move about a bit, not to mention I desperately need to visit the bathroom."

"I fell 'sleep..." One look at the clock tells me I've been alseep for two hours. "Sorry, Bobby," I apologize, giving him enough space to rise from the couch. "I don' usually fall 'sleep."

"That's okay." Bobby gets to his feet and heads for the bathroom. "You must have been awfully tired." He closes the bathroom door behind him.

"I ain' usually dis tired," I whisper, confused. A coughing fit doubles me over. Non, mon Dieu! I can't have a cold! Serves me right for running after Bobby wearing only a T-shirt. Sneezing, I stagger to my feet and head for the kitchen. Wiggles is trying to attack my feet and is making things harder. Because of the sneezing I can't see probably and I can only hope I'm not stepping on the little puppy.

Retrieving and clutching some paper towels I try to ride out the coughing and sneezing fit. Mon Dieu, I've been through this before and can only hope I won't get a fever.

"Remy?" Bobby hurries into the kitchen and gives me a quizical look.

"I've got a cold," I whisper between several coughs. "Merde...!"

"Come on, Remy, you should be in bed."

Bobby folds one arm around my waist and helps me upstairs. I'm shivering as I lie down and Bobby tucks the blankets around me.

"I'm going to get you some OJ. Do you have some chicken soup?"

"Non... no OJ eit'er." The blankets do the trick and I finally feel warm. "Bobby, are you gonna stay? You don' have to, if you don' wanna, mais..." Please, I don't want to be sick and all alone at the boathouse.

"I'll check the mansion for OJ and chicken soup. I'll be back in a few minutes. Try to rest, Remy."

I hold my breath when he leans forward to place a chaste kiss on my brow. "Don'... or you'll catch my cold."

"I don't get colds," Bobby says smugly.

"I should have known dat de Iceman doesn' do colds," I whisper, closing my eyes. "What 'bout Wiggles?" The moment I finish the question the puppy jumps onto the bed and makes himself comfortable on the other pillow.

"I guess that answers your question?" Bobby laughs and walks towards the doorway. "I'll be back with the OJ in a few minutes, Remy."

"Bien." Closing my eyes, I cringe, feeling miserable. Please don't let this cold evolve into pneumonia.

 

I must have fallen asleep again because the sudden rocking of the mattress wakes me. I manage to partly open my eyes and find that Bobby's climbing into bed with me. He's wearing a sweat shirt and sweat pants and he feels soft and warm. "You're back..." Part of me doubted he really wants to take care of me.

"Remy, can you sit up? I want you to drink some OJ."

I struggle into an upright position and watch him closely. It certainly looks like he's here to stay.

"Drink, Remy."

Obediently, I empty the glass of OJ. Bobby helps me lie down again and he spoons up behind me once more. "Dis feels bien."

Bobby laughs softly. "Go back to sleep, Remy."

I feel relieved, knowing that I don't have to beat this cold on my own. Bobby's here to help me through it. He won't let me down. I can trust him to take care of me. "Merci, cher..." Bobby's answer is a kiss pressed on my brow and I smile blissfully, realizing he's worthy of my trust. Bobby won't leave me. His right hand soothingly strokes my back and I'm unable to stay awake much longer. Feeling completely safe, I give in to sleep.

 

The End

 

Disclaimer: Gambit and X-Men is (c)copyright of Marvel Comics. No copyright infringement is intended.


	5. The Cold from Hell.

The Cold from Hell.

 

I'm a restless sleeper, I always was, and poor Jean-Luc learned that the hard way. The first night at his home I woke up kicking and screaming. Jean-Luc tried to comfort me by hugging me, but that was the wrong thing to do. I kicked, even slapped him, but the amazing thing was that he held on, never letting go and now Bobby is the one getting kicked while I'm trying to sleep in his embrace.

 

What's he still doing here? I'm sneezing, coughing, sweating and even threw up his grilled cheese sandwiches an hour ago. And yet he's still in bed with me, holding me tight. His body heat is keeping me warm and I soak up any warmth he's willing to share. "Bobby... why...are you... still here?" Another coughing fit unables me to continue. Bobby pulls me upright, rubs my back and lets me ride it out. Mon Dieu, don't let it become pneumonia!

 

"I'm here because I fucking care, Remy, now stop asking me that!"

 

I manage to look at his eyes and he seems irritated. Great, I'm chasing him away! "Sorry, Bobby. I wouldn' blame you for leavin'... I'm a mess and it's gonna be worse 'fore it gets betta." My head is reeling and my eyes slip shut; I don't have the strength to keep them open much longer.

 

"Ah, in sickness and in health, huh? I betta start practising that!" Bobby's determined voice shows his resolve. "It's time for your cough syrup and I betta throw in some aspirin and vitamin C. I've never seen a cold go bad so quickly."

 

Bobby releases me from his embrace, but for some reason I keep holding on to him. I have to tell myself to let go and snuggle up beneath the blankets. I'm forgetting something, but... "How's Wiggles?" How could I forget about the puppy?

 

"Look at the foot end of the bed," Bobby calls from the staircase as he makes his way to the kitchen.

 

After struggling into a sitting position I find Wiggles curled up at my feet, sleeping contently. Bien, I don't have to worry about him. Lying back, a massive shudder racks my body. Feeling miserable, I fight back the tears that are building in my eyes. I don't understand my reactions, my need to cry, my need to hold on to Bobby. My emotions are a mess and I just don't understand why. Why do I want Jean-Luc so badly? I close my eyes and give into the memories.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Petit, let me help. You can' do dis on your own," Jean-Luc says, concerned. "Stop fightin' me, Remy."

 

I don't want to fight him, mais I'm at the mercy of this hellish fever. It started after Jean-Luc and Henri found me. I sat on that cold pavement for way too long and it got to my lungs. Jean-Luc tried to explain to me that I have pneumonia, but I don't really know what that is. All I know is that I feel miserable. I'm running a fever, coughing up disgusting stuff and I can't breathe properly. Sometimes I feel like I'm choking and then panic takes over; like now.

 

Sitting upright in bed, I struggle for my next breath. My lungs feel heavy and breathing is almost impossible. I don't know what Jean-Luc wants from me, but I can't move, even if I wanted to.

 

"Petit, I want to put you in de bat'tub. De hot steam will ease de congestion in your lungs. Merde, why isn' Mattie here? She's much better at treatin' de sick. Remy, don' make dis any harder dan it is."

 

The bathtub? I eye him suspicisously. The fever is affecting my thinking and in my mind his face changes to that of the man who lured me into his home and raped me. Non! I'm staying in bed; I'm not moving! But suddenly Jean-Luc's arms are around me and he's lifting me from the bed. "Non! I won' do it! Lemme go, bastard!"

 

Jean-Luc's expression turns shocked and I realize what I just said. "Sorry, M'sieur." What is wrong with me? This is Jean-Luc LeBeau and he saved my life, but another face is obscuring Jean-Luc's and the panic returns. "Let go!" But Jean-Luc only tightens his hold and suddenly I'm boneless in his arms. I don't have the strength to struggle any longer and dread the things that will happen next.

 

"Don' be 'fraid of me, Remy. I'll never hurt you," Jean-Luc says, carrying me into the bathroom. "Stay calm and try to rest."

 

But his advice comes too late. My congested lungs contract and my eyes bulge. I'm coughing again and disgusting sputum drips from my lips and onto Jean-Luc's clothes. He's going to be mad with me for ruining his clothes, but I can't stop coughing! Tears of misery flow down my cheeks and I don't fight him as he takes off my clothes. I'm butt naked now and try to cover up my groin area, but I know damn well that I can't stop him if he decides to fuck me. Jean-Luc is too good to be true and I still don't trust him completely.

 

Jean-Luc makes me rest my head on his shoulder while I'm struggling to free my lungs of the fluids that make it hard for me to breathe. His soft words finally make it through the cobwebs in my head and I listen carefully.

 

"It's bien, petit. I promise you'll be bien in a few days. Mattie's already on her way back and in de meantime Henri and I will take care of you, mais please don' be 'fraid of me. I won' hurt you. I only want to help."

 

I manage to lift my head so I can look him in the eyes. Making eye-contact, his concern flows over me, fills every pore of my abused body and I know he's sincere. Why am I suddenly feeling his emotions? Why so clear? I've always known I'm different; my eyes are red on black and sometimes I feel other people's emotions, but never before this clearly.

 

I stop struggling and let Jean-Luc lower me into the bathtub; warm water covers my tortured body and I release a deep sigh. Jean-Luc was right; this feels nice.

 

"Try to stay 'wake, Remy. I've got to get some towels. So don' drown in de meantime."

 

Jean-Luc's right hand briefly caresses my hair and I close my eyes, soaking up the warmth that surrounds me. Then he's gone and I concentrate on this pleasant feeling that's moving through my body. The steam eases the congestion in my lungs and breathing gets easier. It feels good to get rid off the sweat and I splash some water onto my face as well.

 

Jean-Luc returns and sits on his heels next to the bathtub so he's level with me and I don't have to look up at him. My neck hurts terribly and I'm not sure I would have been able to look up at him for long. The bath reduced my fever and I can think clearer. I remember kicking Jean-Luc and calling him a bastard; I need to apologize for that. "M'sieur, I'm sorry... for kickin' you and callin' you names."

 

Jean-Luc's eyes sadden. "You must have had a good reason to act like dat." He unfolds some towels while he's waiting for my answer.

 

"Oui, m'sieur... I saw a different face... not yours..."

 

"Whose face?" Jean-Luc's eyes narrow slightly, but the concerned expression remains.

 

"A man's face..." I shiver at the memory. "He hurt me." I avert my eyes, knowing I can't look Jean-Luc in the eyes any longer; shame's killing me.

 

"In what way did he hurt you, petit?"

 

I'm grateful that Jean-Luc's keeping some distance; I don't think I could stand his touch right now. Not while these terrifying memories are surfacing. "I don' wanna talk 'bout dis."

 

"Mais you have to, petit. Please tell me so I know how I can help you best?" Jean-Luc cocks his head and his tone is pleading. "I know some very good psychatrists and dey can help you deal wit' dis. You don' have to do dat on your own."

 

A lost tear makes it down my cheek and I quickly wipe it away. I really don't want to tell Jean-Luc what happened, but something stronger makes me reveal the truth to him. "Made me take off my clot'es and... bend me over and... m'sieur, do I have to say it?" Jean-Luc remains quiet and I nervously lick my lips. "He raped me..." Turning my head away from Jean-Luc I stare at the tiled wall. I don't want to remember what happened!

 

"Were you raped only once..." Jean-Luc's voice fails him and he can't end the question.

 

"Non, happened a few more times..." I fight back the tears, knowing crying won't change a thing. "I don' wanna talk 'bout dis any more."

 

"Remy..."

 

Jean-Luc's sad tone makes me seek out his eyes and I'm shocked to find them swimming with tears. Why is he crying? "M'sieur?"

 

"I suspected you were raped, mais I didn' want to believe it. I couldn' believe dat someone would hurt a chile like dat. I was wrong. I'll find you some help, petit and we'll deal wit' dis toget'er."

 

Jean-Luc signals me to leave the bathtub and I manage to get to my feet. He lifts me out of the tub and onto the floor, while wrapping warm towels around my shivering body. "Why, m'sieur? I'm a lot of trouble... you don' need dat." His hands are moving over my body, drying my skin and I flinch, but manage not to pull away from him. Jean-Luc won't hurt me; I do believe that.

 

The guilt that shines from Jean-Luc's eyes mystifies me. Why is he feeling guilty? That doesn't make sense. "M'sieur?"

 

"I didn' search hard 'nough," Jean-Luc whispers beneath his breath.

 

His cryptic remark puzzles me, but he grows quiet, lifting me in his arms again and carrying me back to my room. He puts me in a comfortable chair and starts changing the sheets on my bed. Why is he doing this himself? I know he has servants. I should ask, but I'm tired and falling asleep in the chair.

 

"You should sleep in bed, Remy."

Jean-Luc lifts me again, carries me over to the bed and places me in its center. I sigh, pleased, as the soft mattress rises to meet me.

 

"You need to take your syrup 'fore you can go back to sleep, petit." Jean-Luc pours some syrup into a cup.

 

I nod weakly; wishing he would let me sleep instead. Although the syrup tastes horrible it does help and I swallow obediently, simply too tired to weasle my way out of taking it. Next is some orange juice and I drink it greedily.

 

"Now you can go to bed, petit," Jean-Luc says, pleased. He tucks in the blankets and sits on the side of the bed. "I should have tried harder to find you, petit."

 

His last words strike me as odd. Why would he think he should have tried harder? He didn't even know I was out there! Too tired to stay awake any longer, I fall asleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Remy? You're soaking wet!" Bobby sounds alarmed and struggles free from the blankets to sit on the side of the bed. "Remy? Wake up!"

 

Bobby's voice wakes me up and I manage to partly open my eyes. He looks worried. "I'll be bien, Bobby. It's jus' a cold." A coughing fit overwhelms me and I struggle to cough up the sputum from my lungs.

 

"Remy? Are you sure this is just a cold? Maybe I should ask Hank to come back and examine you."

 

Bobby's brushing some wet locks out of my face and I cock my head to lean into the caress. "Merci for stayin'." I'm not used to have someone to fall back on, especially now that I can't turn to Jean-Luc for help and comfort.

 

"Remy, do you think a shower would help? The boathouse doesn't have a bathtub and I don't want to risk making your cold worse by taking you to the mansion."

 

"Sounds bien, Bobby, mais I don' t'ink I can manage on my own." Through the years I had too many colds and the Artic only made things worse. Each time I have a cold I seem less resilent and each cold wears me down a little more.

 

Bobby seems hesitant. "Are you saying I've got to take a shower with you?" He blushes and then looks in the direction of the bathroom. "Well, I do have a spare set of clothes in my overnight bag."

 

I can't help giggling. "You wanna take dat shower wit' your clot'es on? Why?"

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable." Bobby's voice is barely audible.

 

"Bobby, we showered in de communual showers after practice. We've seen each ot'er naked 'fore. You won' freak me out!" Merde, I should never have mentioned the abuse. "Don' treat me like dat!"

"Can't help it," Bobby mumbles nervously. "I just don't want to accidentally upset you."

 

I sigh deeply. "What do I do wit' you?"

 

Bobby smiles weakly. "Let's get you into that shower cabin."

 

Bobby helps me sit upright and after putting his arms around me, we make our way into the bathroom. The coughing returns and I lean against the wall while Bobby takes off my clothes. He already turned on the shower and warm steam is making its way into my lungs, easing the congestion. I step beneath the warm spray and sway on my feet, feeling dizzy. A moment later, Bobby's arms return around my waist and I rest my head on his shoulder.

 

"My, this is weird."

 

"What's weird?"

 

"Being naked with you," Bobby stutters and blushes slightly.

 

I'm too tired to reassure him and breathe in the hot steam. We'll talk later. Suddenly one of Bobby's hands slips into my hair. Somehow he managed to grab the shampoo bottle and is now washing my hair. The massaging motion calms me and I relax against him.

 

"You're okay with this?" Bobby rinses the shampoo and applies some conditioner. His eyes go lower and then jerk back to above the waist. He mumbles something inaudible.

 

"What?"

 

"It's nothing," Bobby says evasively and uses some shower gel to work up a lather.

 

"What is it, Bobby?" Mon Dieu, I'm too tired to play head games.

 

"The scars..."

 

"Scars?" The fever is making it hard for me to think logically and I wish Bobby told me what's going on.

 

"I never before saw the scars on your back and legs."

 

I close my eyes, rest my body against his and suddenly realize how easy it is to trust Bobby. He reminds me of Jean-Luc, being concerned and gentle when helping me into the bathrobe after shutting down the shower.

 

"Do you mind if I dry your skin?"

 

"You don' have to ask permission, cher." I'm swaying on my feet and desperately want to lie down, snuggled up to him. I decide not to tell him about the scars. Talking is too much of an effort.

 

Bobby dries my skin and wraps a towel around my wet hair. I let him walk me back to the bed and lie down, sighing blissfully. Wiggles is awake now and jumping all over the bed. "You have to walk him..."

 

"I will do that in a few minutes. Let's get you comfortable first." Bobby fluffs the pillows, covers me with blankets and removes the towel around my hair. "I should comb those manes, Remy."

 

"Not now, Bobby..." Dozing off, I listen to Bobby's soft murmurs.

 

"I'm gonna contact Hank, see what he thinks I should do. If you get any worse I'm gonna ask him to come home."

 

That's not necessary, Bobby. This is just a cold, I know that for sure. I had pneunomia before and I'm not that bad yet. I want to reassure him, but can't wrap my lips around the words. Falling asleep, I return to the realms of dreams and memories.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Henri, de petit is gettin' worse. Where's Mattie?"

 

"She's on her way back, père."

 

Jean-Luc is pacing the room, looking at me with a concerned glance. I'm too exhausted to do anything else than just stare back at him. I listen to them talk for a few more minutes, but can't concentrate on the conversation much longer.

 

It feels so good to be in a warm bed with grown ups close to look after me. I can't remember being cared for before. I don't have to worry about food or shelter. They will do that for me. They took in a street rat and I still don't understand why. I'm grateful though for this amazing gift and I hope I can stay with them for the rest of my life.

 

"Remy, do you want somethin' to drink?" Henri walked over to my bed and is now pulling up a chair. They've been taking turns sitting with me.

 

"Oui..." Henri helps me sit upright and lets me lean against him. He even puts the glass against my lips and let's me sip slowly. Henri's emotions are different from Jean-Luc's. I know he isn't that thrilled about having me here, but he's trying to accept it for his father's sake. He's trying though and his feelings are changing. His concern is growing and he emits feelings of protectiveness, which suprises me.

 

"Jus' hang on in dere, Remy. You'll start to feel better in a few days." Henri puts the empty glass on the night stand. "Try to sleep."

 

My head's lolling, trying to make eye-ontact with Jean-Luc. I don't want to hurt Henri's feelings, but I really want Jean-Luc close. Finally I manage to make eye-contact and my fingers reach for him in a futile attempt to pull him close. He's way out of my reach. What will make Jean-Luc sit with me? "Poppa?"

 

A tear leaves Jean-Luc's eyes upon hearing that word and he rushes towards my bed. "I'm here, Remy, I'm here. Don' be 'fraid. You'll get better." He's sitting on the side of the bed, cradling my hand in his. "Le docteur says de fever will grow less wit'in forty-eight hours. You have to be strong and hold on."

 

I nod my head weakly, amazed that he came to my bedside because I called him 'poppa'. But if that word will make him stay I'll continue to use it. I want him close, want to hear his voice, see his face and smell his cologne, although I can't smell much right now. "Poppa?" I always learned quickly how to use certain things to my advantage. "You gonna stay? Please?"

 

The fever makes me feel disorientated and Jean-Luc is the only one I trust so I want him near. Jean-Luc's hand moves through my hair, massaging my scalp and the motion relaxes me. I never knew a caress could offer so much comfort.

 

"I'll stay close, petit. Don' worry. Use your strengt' to get better. Henri and I will 'ways be close. You'll never be 'lone, I promise, Remy."

 

Smiling, I concentrate on his feelings and they reassure me that he's speaking the truth. "Sorry for bein' such a bébé, m'sieur."

 

"Call me poppa, petit. I like it when you call me poppa."

 

My smile brightens. "Oui, poppa." Jean-Luc wins the battle; I trust him, trust him completely. That thought soothes me and helps me fall asleep again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Remy? Please open your eyes for me. I need to check on you," Bobby says firmly. "Open your eyes. Come on, Remy, you need to wake up now!"

 

"You're makin' a fuss over rien, cher... It jus' a cold." I've had pneumonia a few times and know I'm not that bad yet. "Stop worryin' 'bout me."

 

"Damn it, Remy! You're awake! You let me think you were still alseep!"

 

I finally open my eyes to look at him. The worried expression in his eyes takes me aback. "Bobby, calm down. It's jus' a cold!"

 

"What if it's already evolved into pneumonia? Remy, you're getting worse!" Bobby sounds stressed and his eyes hold a pleading expression.

 

I know what he wants, what he needs; reassurance. But he won't believe me. "You want Hank to check on me? Is dat it? Would dat make you feel betta?" Bobby nods fervently. I sigh, knowing I can't deny him that request; he's taking care of me and if Hank's words will make him feel better I've got to give in.

 

"Go 'head, Bobby. Mais he'll tell you de same t'ing; dat's jus' a nasty cold." I'm feeling way more miserable than I want him to know and I'm playing everything down on purpose. I don't want Bobby to panic because of me. I'm shaking like a leaf, my breathing is labored and my sinuses are full of snot. My temples are pounding and a headache, maybe even a migraine is building. Maybe Bobby's right and I should be checked on.

 

"I'm gonna call Hank, you stay where you are!"

 

Bobby leaves the room and I close my eyes again; keeping them open takes too much out of me. My throat is dry and I desperately want a drink. The OJ's still on the night stand; Bobby even refilled the glass. Okay, I can do this.

 

It takes me a few minutes to get into an upright position and I reach for the OJ. My arm's shaking and now I'm seeing black spots. Should have kept them closed, but then I can't pick up the OJ! Merde! I knocked the glass off the night stand and now the OJ is spreading over the floor. Merde, fuck, shit... I better clean it up before Bobby comes back and sees it. If he does he's liable to not leave me alone again and I don't need a mother hen guarding me!

 

I roll out of the bed and startle, hearing Wiggles' pitiful whimper. I rolled onto his tail! "Sorry, petit," I whisper apologetically. I stumble to my feet and promptly drop to my knees as a coughing fit doubles me over. Bobby's right; I am getting worse!

 

"Remy? Hank's on his..." Bobby's voice trails off, finding me on the floor. "Shit, Remy, what did you do?" He wraps his arms around me and hauls me to my feet. "Get back into bed. I'll clean up the OJ. Look at you, you're shaking all over your body. I wish Hank were here already!" Bobby's raving; worried and upset.

 

Okay, leaving my bed probably was a dumb move, but I really wanted to clean the floor. Sighing, I push deeper into the mattress and Bobby covers me with blankets once more.

 

"Now stay in bed and concentrate on getting better. Call me if you need something. Geesh, you're even worse than Scott when he gets ill." Bobby's grabs one of the towels which were used to dry my skin and cleans up the OJ. "That's going to be one hell of a stain, Remy."

 

Like I care! I'm coughing my lungs out here! But then Bobby's back in bed with me, rubbing my back and letting me lean against him. He feels so incredibly warm!

 

"Hank will arrive shortly. Good thing he took the Blackbird; that way it doesn't take him long to get back home. How are you doing... love?"

 

His expression is insecure and I feel his shyness. He doesn't know how I will react to being called 'love'. I better reassure him. "Dat's bien, cher. Stay a little longer? You feel so warm, Bobby."

 

"I'm not going anywhere," Bobby says reassuringly. "I'll watch over you. And don't give Hank any trouble, you hear me? You need some medical attention. No way in Hell this is an ordinary cold!"

"Mebbe it has somet'in' to do wit' de fact dat..." I need to cough and clear my lungs. After regaining my breath I continue, "dat I had pneumonia a few times."

 

"A few times?" Bobby raises a puzzled eyebrow. "Not while you lived at the mansion. I'd remember that."

 

Ai, I don't want to hurt him... but can't lie to him either. "Had pneumonia when I was a chile, Bobby... twice. Last time I had pneumonia was after dat green entity left my body. Rien could hurt me while she was inside me, mais later I paid de price. I 'ready lived at de boathouse and no one noticed."

 

Shocked, Bobby blinks his eyes. "What about Hank? Did you let him treat the pneumonia?"

 

"Hank once visited me at de boathouse. I was tempted to not let him in, mais I did. He gave me some meds after he examined me." This conversation is draining me and I want to go back to sleep. "I'm tired, Bobby."

 

"Then close your eyes and rest. I'll wake you once Hank arrives."

 

"I ain' sure I can sleep, cher... Can I have somet'in' to drink? I knocked de glass off the night stand when I tried to reach for it."

 

"Sure."

 

I sip slowly and feeling the OJ slide down my battered throat feels like heaven. "Merci."

 

"You're welcome, love. Now try to rest? Even if you can't sleep, you need the rest."

 

I close my eyes and listen to his heartbeat; it soothes me and although I can't sleep, I rest.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Forty-five minutes later Hank climbs the stairs and listens to Bobby raving about my health. I can hear them although they're still in corridor. I sure hope Hank will reassure Bobby that I'm fine. This is just a nasty cold. Hiding beneath the blankets I peek at Hank as he enters the room. Bobby remains standing in the doorway, trying to give Hank the space he needs to run his tests on me. Merde, I hate being subjected to his tests.

 

"So my Cajun friend. What is it this time? Robert here tells me you developed a cold?"

 

I always liked Hank. Although he looks rugged, he has a gentle desposition and has always treated me kindly. He's one of the few people I allow to examine me. I'd prefer it if tante Mattie were here to check on me, but Hank will do. "Jus' a cold."

 

"Ah, but Robert's scared it evolved into pneunomia. Now open up."

 

Merde... he puts a thermometer in my mouth and I'm tempted to spit it out, but I don't, seeing Bobby's worried eyes. I'd better behave. 

 

"Now sit up, Remy." Hank uncovers his stethoscope and warms the cold metal with his warm breath.

 

"Can'..." I can't sit upright unaided.

 

"Bobby, give us a hand." Hank gestures Bobby to sit down on the side of the bed.

 

Hank gently pulls me into a sitting position and I rest my body against Bobby's.

 

"Cough for me, Remy." Hank places the stethoscope against my back and I cough. "And again... and again... now take a few deep breaths, Remy."

 

I do as he tells me, but a coughing fit makes it impossible for me to continue. My eyes sting with tears and my head's pounding. Hank gently moves me until he can place his stethoscope against my chest. He tells me to cough and to take deep breaths again and I do. Mon Dieu, this is tiring me.

 

"You're suffering from severe bronchitus, Remy. The last time I checked on you it wasn't there. I'm going to give you two inhalers. Use them once in the morning and then again in the evening. I'm also going to prescribe you a round of antibiotics. You might not have pneunomia yet, but you're certainly headed in that direction. Your lungs suffered in Antarctica and we need to make sure you don't develop any complications."

 

Hank turns to Bobby. "Make sure he stays in bed. I will allow short trips to the bathroom, but nothing more. Keep him hydrated; give him water or OJ, maybe some soup. Don't try solid foods, he will just throw them up."

 

"He's here, Hank," I point out sharply. "You can talk to me..."

 

"Bobby needs to know how to care for you, stubborn Acadian." Hank sounds exasparated. "When you had pneumonia a few months ago you didn't come to me either so I'm telling Bobby to look after you as you can't seem to take care of yourself!"

 

"You sound pissed off..." I mumble, surprised. Bobby helps me lie down again and adjusts the pillows so I'm not completely horizontal; it's easier for me to breathe that way.

 

"You neglect your needs, Remy, so someone else has to do if for you!" Hank collects his stethoscope and closes the first aid kit he brought along. "Don't forget to take the antibiotics and to use the inhalers." He places the items on the night stand.

 

"I'll make sure he uses them," Bobby vows passionately. "Remy, I'm gonna walk Hank to the door, is that okay with you?"

 

I nod my head, feeling tired and beaten. I'm already falling asleep when Bobby and Hank leave my room. Wiggles moves into my arms and I hold him, letting his presence soothe me.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Ten minutes later Bobby's back with more OJ and some crackers. He makes me eat the crackers and then forces me to swallow the antibiotics. Using the inhalers feels weird, but I do as he tells me because I want him off my back so I can get back to sleep again.

 

"Hank says that you'll continue to feel awful for at least three more days. He'll check on you daily and when you get worse I'm to call him at once. Man, I'm glad he examined you. At least now we know what we're dealing with!" Bobby slips between the covers and pulls me close to his chest, spooning up behind me.

 

"It's jus' a cold," I tell him again, snuggling closer.

 

"A cold from Hell!" Bobby says, only partly joking. "Feeling better?"

 

"Oui, de inhalers seem to work. Sorry for bein' such a burden, cher." I really feel guilty for putting him through this. "Guess you didn' expect to have to nurse me t'rough Christmas."

 

"Fuck, I forgot it's Christmas!" Bobby's big eyes reveal his surprise. "I'm gonna haul that tree upstairs once you're asleep. It certainly looks like you're stuck here for a few days."

 

"You don' have to do dat."

 

"But I want to do it!" Bobby nuzzles the back of my neck. "I love you, Remy. Don't ever scare me like that again."

 

"Scare you?"

 

"You have no idea how bad you look, do you? You look like death warmed over. For a moment I was scared I was gonna lose you... I know it's irrational, but I guess that's what love does to you... I want to be with you, Remy."

 

Bobby can't see my face, can't see the tears that flow down my cheeks. Do I love him too? I don't know. The fever's messing with my head and my feelings. "Please stay, cher... don' leave."

 

"I won't... won't let you go, love."

 

I can't get back to sleep and listen to his breathing instead. I finally found someone who will stand by me, support me and love me, and what about me? I trust him.

 

The End


	6. Reunion and Revelations

Reunion and Revelations.

 

"Poppa? Jean-Luc? Poppa?" I'm mumbling in my sleep, subconsciously calling out for Jean-Luc and the sound of my own voice wakens me. "Poppa?" That name always brought Jean-Luc to my bedside and maybe it will work now too!

 

"Remy? Jean-Luc isn't here, but maybe I can help?" Bobby sounds lost and his eyes are dull and helpless.

 

What am I putting the poor guy through? "Bobby, cher, I'm sorry. Must have been a nightmare. I sometimes have dem."

 

"Sometimes?" Bobby shakes his head. "You have had nightmares every night!"

 

Feeling guilty for robbing him of his peaceful sleep, I roll onto my back, away from Bobby and stare at the ceiling. Bobby's lying on his right side, watching me and I feel that stare move over my face. Bobby's eyes carry worry and sorrow.

 

"Jean-Luc adopted you, didn't he?" Bobby doesn't seem too sure of his conclusions.

 

Mais oui, I never told him any names. Bobby has to put all the pieces of the puzzle together by himself. It's about time I help him. "Oui, Jean-Luc adopted me. He's my... father. He's all I have left."

 

"Who is this Henri you sometimes mention in your sleep? I don't think it's Hank."

 

"Henri is Jean-Luc's first born." Painful memories resurface, taking me back to those first days in which they took turns sitting with me. "Jean-Luc was de only person I trusted for a very long time, Bobby. He saved my life more dan once."

 

"I've been at the boathouse for four days now, Remy, and although the fever is gone you still call out for him every night. Maybe you should talk to him face to face?"

 

"I can', Bobby. I can' ever go back to N'awlins."

 

"Why's that?"

 

How do I explain the Guilds to him? It's best he doesn't know. "I made a mistake, hurt someone's feelings and had to leave de city." I'm not mentioning killing Julien in a duel, because I didn't kill him! The bastard's still around, one of the living dead, but he still keeps me from going back to New Orleans!

 

"Can't your dad come here?"

 

Bobby cocks his head and hesitantly raises his hand to touch my face. He's so gently, so tender... "He can' leave his business, Bobby, dey need him." I try hard to hide the pain I feel. I would do anything to have Jean-Luc close. "Bobby, cher, can we go back to sleep? It's only four in de mornin' and I'm tired... you look tired too." Bobby looked after me these last few days as I battled that infernal cold. He didn't get much sleep either.

 

"Sure, go back to sleep. Move a little closer?" Bobby opens his arms invitingly.

 

I move into them, rest my head against his chest and close my eyes. His hand rests on my abdomen and he's tracing circles through the fabric of my T-shirt, which feels nice. The soothing motion lures me back into sleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The next days we fall into a comfortable rhythm. We sleep in late, which is a real treat, and then we prepare a huge lunch followed by walking Wiggles, playing with the puppy and snuggling on the couch. I could certainly get used to this. There's only one problem; my nightmares. Every night I kick Bobby awake, scream for Jean-Luc and it takes Bobby long minutes to calm me down. Dark circles are starting to show beneath his eyes and I hate myself for doing this to him.

 

"Remy? What are you thinking about?"

Bobby is standing behind me, and as I look into the bathroom mirror, I recognize the tired expression in his eyes; it mirrors mine. "De nightmares." Bobby nuzzles my neck. I don't really know why we haven't taken the next step yet. All we did so far was kiss and snuggle. Neither Bobby nor I took the initiative to take this to the next level. Maybe we both need time.

 

"Why don't you finally tell me what they are about?"

 

Bobby enfolds me in his arms and leads me into the bedroom. Wiggles is already asleep on the bed when we sit down and I try to find the courage to finally reveal my worst fear to him.

 

"Remy, you can trust me. Please tell me why you're hurting."

 

I sigh, give in and lock eyes with Bobby. "Jean-Luc left me... tante Mattie left me... Rogue left me... the X-Men left me to die in Antarctica... see a pattern here, cher?" Telling Bobby the truth reliefs me, but I still feel lonely. "And you'll leave me too..."

Bobby's eyes are filled with compassion. "Remy, your way of thinking is very understandable, considering everything you've been through. You never knew your parents, had to leave New Orleans for whatever reason and then we deserted you in Antarctica. But trust me, Remy, I won't leave you. I'll stay."

 

"Bobby, I heard it all 'fore. Jean-Luc promised he'd never lemme go and yet he did. I had a hard time learnin' to trust you, mais... I do trust you, cher, mais soon you'll realize what a bad bargain I am and leave me for someone betta. You deserve someone betta, you know." Bobby wants to interrupt, but I rest a finger against his lips, shutting him up. "I'm damaged goods, Bobby, in more ways dan you can ever imagine. I carry 'round too much emotional bagage."

 

Bobby's frowning and the expression in his eyes hardens. I'm getting the 'Goodbye Remy' speech sooner than I expected.

 

"Damn it, Remy, I understand why you think that I'm gonna leave you, but your thinking's fucked up, love. I want you! No one else."

He seems at a loss for words and I trace the outside of his lips with my fingertips. "Everyone leaves me, Bobby..."

 

"I won't!"

 

I never heard such determination in his voice! "Mais anyway, dat's what de nightmares are 'bout." I don't want to discuss my fear of abandonment any longer. "It's not'ing new, cher..." The pain that shines from Bobby's eyes takes me aback.

 

"You shouldn't feel that way, Remy. You don't deserve to feel that way."

 

A flash of pain moves through me, remembering the Morlocks that got killed because of my stupidity. Ai, Bobby, you don't know how much I deserve to feel this way. "I can sleep on de couch," I start, rising from the bed. "You should get a good night's sleep."

 

"Oh no, you're not bailing out!" Bobby pulls me back. "Get into bed, Remy, I'll join you in a sec. I need to make a phone call first and then we'll talk some more."

 

Bobby gives me a stern look when I remain motionless, grabs my feet and forces me to lie down. Mon Dieu, it feels good, knowing he really wants me. Only then his words register. "Call? Whom do you have to call?" I feel something evasive in his mind. Is he hiding something from me?

 

"A friend, and now stop the questions. It's gonna be a surprise." Bobby pulls up the blankets and tucks them around me.

 

"A surprise?" I hate surprises.

 

"A good surprise. Remy, trust me, you'll like it." Bobby grins smugly as he heads for the doorway. "It'll only take five minutes and no eavesdropping!"

Suddenly I'm feeling depressed again, saddened and out of sync. It's obvious that Bobby doesn't want me to know what's going on and I feel shut out. Turning onto my left side, away from him, I curl up beneath the blankets and watch Wiggles waggle closer to me. He circles the spot between my arms and then plops down, snuggling up to me. I hold on to him, wondering if I lost Bobby already.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

I pretend being asleep when Bobby climbs into bed five minutes later. He spoons up behind me, wraps his arms around me and caresses my hair.

 

"Remy, I know you're awake."

 

He saw through the pretence... but I still don't want to talk to him.

 

"Remy, why are you mad with me?"

 

Mon Dieu, he really doesn't know... "I ain' mad, Bobby."

 

"What is it then? Help me out, Remy, because I haven't got a clue."

 

"Whom did you call?"

 

"Is that it? Remy, I can't tell you, but I promise you'll find out tomorrow."

 

He can't tell me, huh? He's keeping secrets already, probrably planning on moving back to the mansion and calling Hank to let him know he's dumping me. I move out of his arms, ignoring Wiggles' protest at being moved about. "I'm gonna sleep now."

 

"Remy..." Bobby sounds hurt, even shocked.

 

I squeeze my lips shut, determined not to talk to him. Closing my eyes, I concentrate on the bundle of warmth in my arms. I'm emotionally exhausted and it doesn't take me long to fall asleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Poppa! Poppa! Where are you? Henri.... tante... poppa!"

 

"Remy, wake up, Remy!"

 

"NON!" I scream, sitting upright and staring dazedly at Bobby's face. "Fuck, I had anot'er nightmare..." Bobby's eyes are big and his brow is knitted. His right hand is soothingly rubbing my back and his left is pushing back some damp locks that made their way into my face. "I'm sorry, Bobby... I should really sleep on de couch."

 

I'm shivering all over my body and Bobby pulls up the blankets, slowly lowering me back into the pillows. My lungs don't like the commotion and react; the fluids aren't gone completely and I start coughing. Please don't let me start hyperventilating as well!

 

"Remy?" Bobby leans in a little closer. "Want me to get you some water? OJ? Anything at all?" He's busy holding back Wiggles who woke due to the noise and is now trying to jump onto my lap.

 

"Non, I don' want anyt'in... jus' stay? Please?" I can't tell him what that nightmare was about; it freaked me out.

 

"Okay, then talk to me." Bobby is petting Wiggles, who's slowly settling down. "Who left you this time?"

 

Mon Dieu, he knows... "Jean-Luc did." Why the hell am I telling him this? I was so determined to ignore him after being secretive about that phone call!

 

"Tell me about it, Remy."

 

This time Bobby stays on his side and pulls me close to his chest. I'm still on my back, staring at the ceiling. "It was cold... I t'ink I was back on de ice and I called for him... he saved me 'fore and he would save me 'gain, and he showed up...stood in front of me in de citadel..."

 

"And then what?"

 

Bobby kisses my brow, showering it with butterfly kisses which almost tingle. "He turned his back on me and walked 'way."

 

"Ouch, that had to hurt."

 

"Oui, it did." I find the courage to trade staring at the ceiling for looking into his eyes instead. "I'm sorry 'bout givin' you de cold shoulder earlier."

 

"You were upset, deprived of sleep and subconsciously still dealing with those nightmares," Bobby summarizes. "I understand that, but Remy, don't ever ignore me again when we're talking. Giving me the silent treatment won't solve anything, okay?"

 

"Bien..." Wiggles is licking my face and it's making me giggle. "Petit, stop doin' dat." But the truth is that I don't want him to stop... ever. Turning back to Bobby I look into his trusting eyes. "Why me, cher? You could have everyone you want. Why me? I kick you at night, scream in my sleep and..."

 

"We'll figure this out, Remy and we'll deal with it together."

 

"Dat's what Jean-Luc said when he found me, mais he didn' stay and we're no longer dealin' wit' it toget'er. Ain' I pat'etic, cher? I need someone else to keep me sane."

 

Bobby sighs deeply. "Things will look better in the morning, Remy. Let's go back to sleep."

 

I don't argue with him; we're both tired. "Hold me, cher?"

 

Bobby tightens his hold. "All through the night."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Bobby? Why do you keep starin' at de door?" It's almost dinner time and Bobby's still watching the door. He's done so since breakfast. "Are you expectin' someone?"

 

"Maybe..."

 

"Cher!" Bobby's been playing me all day long and I can't stand it any longer. "Bobby!"

 

"Just wait!"

 

Bobby's driving me insane. He keeps dropping hints that we'll have a visitor today, but then denies it when I ask him directly. "Knock yourself out, starin' at de door, I'm startin' dinner." Those words sound strange to my own ears. It's been weeks since I felt hungry and found the energy to fix something to eat. Bobby's responsible for the changes and I don't know how to feel about that. I'll fall into an even deeper depression once he leaves.

 

"Remy..." Bobby walks over to the kitchen area, but still keeps an eye on the front door. "What's for dinner?"

 

"Pasta..." Wiggles is jumping in front of me, feeling neglected now that I'm pulling out pans from the cupboard. "Here, cher, make yourself useful." I pick up Wiggles and deposit him in Bobby's arms. Wiggles is delighted to find himself in Bobby's arms and licks his face.

 

Bobby allows it, petting the dog. "You know what day it is, Remy?"

 

"What day it is?" I must admit I lost track of time due to the cold from Hell. "I haven' got a clue, cher." It's probably January already.

 

"It's New Year's Eve." Bobby grins smugly, opens the fridge and takes out the bottle of champagne that's sitting there. "You're practically off your meds so we can celebrate New Year's properly."

 

I put the pasta into the boiling water and start on the sauce. I still don't know why Bobby's constantly watching the door. "Cher, I don' know whom you're expectin' to show up, mais it's obvious he ain' comin', gimme a hand here instead?"

 

Bobby opens his mouth to say something, but changes his mind. A grin appears on his face. "He'll come, you'll see."

 

"It's a he den?" Ah, Bobby's starting to give things away. "It is Hank, oui?'

 

"Non," Bobby teases. "It's not Hank." Bobby's setting the table for three people.

 

"Still not tellin' me? Have it your way, cher. Dinner's ready." I drain the pasta and stir the sauce one last time. It's ready to be served. "Cher, bring me dose plates?"

 

Bobby is in the process of picking them up when someone knocks on the door. "That's him!" Bobby calls out thriumphantly. "I knew he'd come!"

 

Resigned, I watch him run toward the front door. It looks like we'll have a guest tonight. I just wish I knew what to prepare for. Bobby opens the door and it reveals a dark form. The sun has long set and the moon does little to illuminate our guest. I wash and dry my hands and walk up to the front door as well. Bobby's raving enthusiastically.

 

"I'm so glad you could come. I'm Bobby by the way. I'm the one who phoned you. You're right on time; dinner's ready. Join us?"

 

Huh, Bobby has to introduce himself? Does that mean he doesn't really know the man? I approach cautiously, uncertain who our guest is as he hasn't spoken a single word and his features are obsured by darkness.

 

Bobby turnes around and a huge grin flashes across his features. "You see? I told you he'd come!"

 

I raise an inquisitive eyebrow. "Whom are you talkin' 'bout, cher?" This game is getting on my nerves.

 

"Don' you recognize your old père, Remy?"

 

"Mon Dieu!" I blink my eyes when he steps into the light. It's Jean-Luc LeBeau, and he hasn't aged one day since that first time we met twelve years ago. I know it's because of the Elixer, but seeing him like this stuns me every time. You'd think I'd grow use to it! "Poppa?" Have I fallen asleep and am I dreaming this? Someone better pinch me awake!

 

"Remy, mon fils, let dis old man hold his son!" Jean-Luc moves closer and opens his arms.

 

I fling myself at him, wrap my arms tightly around his frame and let him hold me. "You can' be here! You can' be!" This is impossible! No way Jean-Luc would leave New Orleans to come to Westchester. "Is it a dream?"

 

"No dream, petit. Come, let's sit down. You look like you've seen a ghost."

 

Jean-Luc leads me to the couch and sits down next to me. I quickly glance at Bobby and the huge smile is still there. "Bobby, what did you do?" I'm leaning against Jean-Luc, inhaling his cologne, the scent of his cigars and relishing his closeness.

 

"I talked to Jean-Luc over the phone and told him what was going on. He immediately agreed to come to the boathouse." Bobby shrugs his shoulders. "You were hurting and I couldn't stand by and do nothing. Why not use all this technology at the mansion to our benefit? It didn't take me long to get Jean-Luc's phone number, but it took time to convince his staff to take my calls. I guess they didn't believe I was calling on your behalf."

 

I free myself of Jean-Luc's embrace and walk over to Bobby. "No one ever did somet'in' dis beau for me, cher. Merci." Leaning in closer I claim his lips, deepen the kiss and wrap my arms around him. "Je t'aime," I whisper dazedly; I still can't believe he convinced Jean-Luc to come here.

 

Bobby blushes sightly and smiles pleased. "Why don't I walk Wiggles? That gives you some time to talk to your father."

 

"Merci, cher... I don' know how I can ever repay you."

 

"You don't have to, Remy. I want you to be happy." Bobby's lips brush mine and then he slips into his parka, collecting Wiggles, who's already pacing near the front door. "I'll see you guys later for dinner."

 

Ai, the pasta! Well, it's already ruined and food is the last thing on my mind right now as I sit down next to Jean-Luc. "Why are you here? What 'bout Guild matters? Shouldn' you be in N'Awlings?"

 

"Remy, stop it and calm down." Jean-Luc smiles fondly. "Everyt'ing's bien at home. De Guild won' crumble 'cause I'm here."

 

I search his eyes and find the same remnants of guilt I saw years ago. I settle back into his arms again, feeling like the little child that he rescued from the deadly cold. "I never expected you to visit."

 

"You should have let me know you needed me. Now I had to hear it from your lover."

 

Jean-Luc's diabolical grin reassures me. "You approve of him?" His blessing means a lot to me.

 

"He's very concenred 'bout you, mon fils. He obviously loves you; dose are excellent qualities so oui, I approve." Jean-Luc moves even closer and thightens his embrace. "He told me 'bout de cold and de nightmares, petit."

 

I should have known Bobby would confide in Jean-Luc. "It's de old same nightmares, poppa."

 

"I'm sorry you had to leave N'Awlings." Jean-Luc grows serious and locks eyes with me. "If I had known Julien would react like dat I'd never have agreed to de marriage. De mad man took 'way my son..."

 

"Ai, poppa, you didn' have a choice. De Guilds had to be united." I know his hands were tied.

 

Jean-Luc sighs and rubs my icy fingers. "I wish I had come sooner, mais I've been a coward dese last few years."

 

"Poppa?" I don't understand what he's saying. Jean-Luc isn't a coward! I relax at his touch. I love it when he caresses my skin like that. Took me years to get used to it, but now the gesture stands for safety and emotional warmth. "You ain' a coward." This whole situation reminds me of my childhood and one thing always puzzled me. "Can I ask you somet'in' personal?"

 

"Of course, mon fils."

 

"When I was li'l you said dat you should have searched harder. I never understood what you meant by dat. You didn' even know dat I existed!" Jean-Luc's body tenses against mine and I search his eyes deeper, feeling some of his incertainty, love and... guilt.

 

Jean-Luc smiles saddened. "I should have told you years ago, mais non, I made dat impossible. I'll tell you know, mais I hate losin' you."

 

"You won' lose me!" I rest my right hand on his shoulder, suddenly alarmed by his expression.

 

Jean-Luc takes off his long coat and begins pacing the living area. "It all started twenty-four years ago when Claire, my wife, was diagnosted wit' cancer. It had already spread and she would die shortly."

 

"Was she Henri's mère?" Jean-Luc never told me about his family before and I wonder why he's bringing it up now.

 

"Oui, Henri's mère. She was a fine woman, Remy, you'd have liked her." Jean-Luc's eyes sadden momentarily, but then he recomposes himself again. "She knew she was goin' to die and decided to select a new wife for me."

 

Did I hear that right? "She did what?"

 

"She feared I would grow into a hermit once she'd died. Clair knew me well. I'd never have sought out anot'er woman on my own. It would have felt like cheatin' on her, so she did it for me while she was still feelin' bien."

 

"She got you a new wife?" Claire must have been a remarkable woman.

 

"Oui, she found Gabrielle and introduced us. I liked her at once and Claire seemed extremely pleased about her choice, but Henri and ot'er family members clearly showed their displeasure and Claire decided dat Gabrielle got her own li'l home at de outskirts of N'Awlings where I could visit her. When Claire died she told me to make a honorable woman of Gabrielle and to marry her when de time was right. She made me promise."

 

I shake my head in disbelief. I never knew about this! "I'm sorry she died."

 

"She was against usin' de Elixer to outsmart dead. She felt her time had come and she wasn' goin' to cheat deat'. Believe me, Remy, I tried to change her mind, mais I failed."

 

"What happened next?" In spite of everything I want to know what happened to Gabrielle.

 

"A few months after Claire died I found comfort in Gabrielle's arms. Knowin' dat I had Claire's blessing made me feel less guilty, mais I still felt guilty for takin' a new lover dis quickly. Den Gabrielle told me she was pregnant."

 

"Pregnant?" I lean back into the comfort of the couch and pull up the blanket Bobby left on the couch from when I was battling that cold. "Poppa, you don' have to tell me." This is obviously hurting him and I don't want him to hurt!

 

"Non, Remy, you deserve to know de trut'." Jean-Luc stops pacing and takes his seat on the couch again. "Claire's father was very influential within de Assasin's Guild and he was mad dat I had taken a new lover. He decided to kill Gabrielle and de chile she'd given birt' too. I had taken dem to the hospital when it was time for her to give birt' and dat's when everyt'in' fell to pieces." Jean-Luc's voice trembles and his eyes swim with unshed tears.

 

"You're frightenin' me, poppa." I don't think I've ever seen him this emotional before.

 

"Claire's père killed Gabrielle dat night, cut her throat and he wanted to kill de chile as well, mais de Antiquary had let bot' guilds know dat he wanted de boy for his collection and I managed to 'steal' him from de hospital."

 

Mon Dieu! Non, non! It can't be! He can't be talking about me! My eyes sting with tears and I pull back my hand, burying it beneath the blanket. "Please make sense." I'm on the edge of a nervous breakdown and I can't deal with this anymore. I've been heading for a nervous breakdown since Antarctica and now Jean-Luc's pushing me over the edge.

 

"I never wanted de Antiquary to get his filt'y hands on you, Remy, mais my hands were tied. When I got home he was already dere, waitin' for me to hand him de chile. I vowed to get you back, mais... I failed. I'm so sorry, Remy." Jean-Luc lowers his eyes and shakes his head at his failure. "I should have searched harder."

 

Now his remark makes sense. "Does dat mean I'm your son? Your flesh and blood?" I feel strangely calm; the emotional storm will hit later.

 

"Oui, you're Gabrielle's son... and mine." Jean-Luc holds his breath as our eyes meet. "Have I lost you now?"

 

"I don' know what to say..." I'm in shock, finding out that I'm his flesh and blood. "I... need time."

 

"I understand," Jean-Luc whispers, distressed. He gets to his feet and takes a few steps away from the couch. "Do you want me out of here?"

 

"Non!" I swallow the big lump that formed in my throat while listening to his history and shake my head. "Non, I want you to stay." Dazedly, I get to my feet and walk over to the window. It's dark outside and the moon and stars shine brightly; it's probably freezing. Where are Bobby and Wiggles? It's way too cold out there for a puppy!

 

"Mon fils..."

 

Suddenly reality hits me. He never really lied to me; called me his son from day one and Henri called me his little brother. I always was part of the family. "Does anyone else know?"

 

"Mattie does."

 

That hurts. "Why didn' you tell me?"

 

"I was scared."

 

"Scared?" I turn around and face him. "Why would you be scared?"

 

"I'm a father who failed his chile in de worst way possible. I let de Antiguary make you part of his collection and later when you hit de streets I wasn' dere to protect you. You have every right to be mad wit' me, petit."

 

But I'm not angry with him. Right now I don't feel a fucking thing! What I do now will shape our future and I only know one thing for sure; I don't ever want to lose him, especially not now that I know he's my real father. "Poppa?" I extend my right hand and he grabs it, pulling me close to his chest. "Careful, poppa, I need to breathe!"

 

"I'm sorry," Jean-Luc apologizes and loosens his hold slightly. "Can you forgive me?"

 

I nod my head against his chest. "Mais oui. Je t'aime, poppa."

 

"Merci, mon fils..."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It's midnight and Bobby opens the champagne bottle, filling our glasses. The new year has arrived and it promises to be a good one. The TV is on, but no one is paying the movie any attention. Bobby and Jean-Luc are engaged in conversation and I'm playing with Wiggles, who's delighted at having my undivided attention.

 

I only start paying attention to the conversation when Jean-Luc mentions being tired and wanting to get some sleep. "You can stay in our room upstairs," I offer, knowing it's the only bedroom in the house. Bobby and I will find a place to sleep.

 

"Non, I will take de couch," Jean-Luc says firmly. "And it looks like de two of you need some sleep as well."

 

I get the hint and get to my feet. Bobby picks up Wiggles and makes his way upstairs after thanking Jean-Luc for visiting us. I wait until he's gone and walk over to Jean-Luc, handing him a pillow and some blankets.

 

"You love him, don' you?"

 

Jean-Luc's question takes me aback. "Whom? Bobby? I ain' sure... Feelings are all over de place."

 

"Remy, I recognize de look in your eyes. You love him."

 

"I do?" I quip, amused. "Merci for tellin' me!"

 

"De two of you will be happy, Remy."

 

I fold my arms around Jean-Luc and he returns the embrace. I bathe in his feelings, relishing the love he's radiating. "Merci for savin' my life, merci for jus' bein' dere."

 

"Remy, I made some bad mistakes and de worst one was tellin' you to leave N'Awlings. I can never make t'ings up to you, mais never forget dat I'm 'ways wit' you..." Jean-Luc places the palm of his hand over my heart. "Dere, can you feel me? I'm 'ways close."

 

I smile reassuringly. "Oui, I understand."

 

"Remy... dere's one t'ing left to discuss."

 

Jean-Luc pulls me onto the couch and I sit down next to him, curious what he's hinting at. "Oui?"

 

"De Elixer. When you reach de age of t'irty you'll need to decide if you want to drink it. As my flesh and blood and as my successor you're entitled to drink it. T'ink it over very carefully. You still have some time left, mais I've got to ask you not to discuss dis wit' Bobby. It's a family matter. You may tell him after you made your decision."

 

I'd forgotten about the Elixer. It never came up before because I was only his adopted son. Now everything's changed. "I promise to t'ink 'bout it."

 

"Bien!" Jean-Luc smiles and presses a kiss onto my brow. "Now, don't let your new lover wait and go upstairs to join him."

 

"Will you still be here in de mornin'?"

 

"I can' make dat promise, Remy."

 

I nod my head once, knowing he'll probably have left before Bobby and I wake up. "Merci for tellin' me de trut'." I rise from the couch and make my way to the bedroom, knowing Bobby and Wiggles are waiting for me. Downstairs I hear Jean-Luc struggle with the blankets until he finds a comfortable position.

 

"Remy?" Bobby's still playing with Wiggles, but the puppy's eyes are closing. Sitting up in bed, he gestures me to join him.

 

I quickly take off my clothes, only leaving my briefs on. I shiver as the cold air touches my skin and quickly slip between the covers. Wiggles has fallen asleep at Bobby's feet and is making soft sounds; he's probably dreaming of chasing his own tail.

 

"Is everything okay, love? You look shaken."

 

"I'm bien, Bobby... never felt dis bien. Merci for callin' Jean-Luc, mais why did you do dat?" I turn onto my left side and watch him watching me.

 

"I can't stand it when you're hurting and I could do something to make you feel better, so I did." Bobby shrugs his shoulders and then averts his eyes. "I love you, Remy and I don't you to hurt."

 

I can tell he wants to add more, but holds back. "What is it, cher?" I place the palm of my hand against his cheek and he leans into the touch.

 

"You said something in French to me earlier..." Bobby's eyes are clouded and he moves a little closer. "What does it mean?"

 

I know damn well what I said to him. "Je t'aime, Bobby, I love you." His heart speeds up beneath my other hand and I can feel him tremble.

 

"You never said that before." Bobby's holding his breath.

 

"It took me dis long to understand my feelings, cher. I've been a mess, in case you hadn' noticed." I feel his pleasure, his happiness now that I'm returning his feelings. "Mais we should move slowly..."

 

"Of course, love! I would never rush you..."

 

He's thinking about my past again, but this time it doesn't irritate me that he's treating me this carefully. It only shows how much he loves me. "Je t'aime, cher... and now kiss me?" I wrap my arms around him and his hands come up behind my back, pulling me close as well. Intertwined like that, we kiss. I don't hold back and neither does he. The kiss feels incredibly right and I no longer feel alone now that I've found love in Bobby's arms.

 

The end.

January 2002


End file.
